The One She Needed

TWENTY SIX

RAQUEL

Although the restaurant buzzed with activity—waiters weaving through tables, customers engaged in loud conversations—it was as if none of it existed between us. Seated across from each other, we remained locked in silence, neither willing to be the first to break it.

"So, what made you change your mind?" Serena asked, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table. Her curiosity was evident in the way she studied me, waiting.

I cast a quick glance around the room, a force of habit, ensuring no prying eyes or ears lingered too close. Swallowing the lump in my throat—along with my pride—I finally spoke. "Someone thought it would be amusing to throw someone very important to me into prison."

She didn't flinch, didn't so much as blink. Just sat there, watching, waiting for more. When I failed to elaborate, she huffed, clearly annoyed.

"What, no names? Do you really expect me to play some guessing game?" She leaned back, arms crossed. "I don't have the patience for that."

I narrowed my gaze. "Serena," I hesitated, second-guessing my choice to involve her. "How do I know you won't stab me in the back?"

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Clearly, that wasn't the question she'd been expecting.

"I thought our mutual association with Derek—plus the fact that he dragged me down with him—would be proof enough that I'm not your enemy. I want justice, same as you. You can trust me."

A bitter laugh slipped past my lips before I could stop it. Serena's jaw clenched, her expression turning ice-cold.

"I'm sorry," I managed between chuckles, raising a hand to show I meant no offense. "It's just hard to trust someone who got involved with a man who was already taken."

Her stare didn't waver, as if she hadn't even registered my words. Silence stretched between us before she finally spoke.

"Maybe it was a mistake coming to you." She tilted her head slightly, scrutinizing me in a way that made my skin prickle. "Honestly, I don't know why I thought someone who spent years as a relationship punching bag would suddenly grow a backbone."

She shrugged, reaching for her purse, her indifference cutting deeper than any insult.

I felt a sudden rush of heat, my body instinctively leaning forward, nearly lunging across the table before I caught myself. I forced my hands to unclench, reminding myself where we were. The last thing I needed was for us to become a spectacle—two angry Black women reinforcing every tired stereotype in public.

Instead, I chose my weapon carefully: words.

"You have no idea what went on behind closed doors to make that assumption," I said, keeping my voice level.

She scoffed, nostrils flaring. "Neither do you."

The words hit harder than I expected. I sat there, stunned into silence, as she pushed back her chair and walked away.

Well, that went south fast.

Serena was proving to be far more complex than I had anticipated.

I found her in the bathroom, hunched over the sink, scrubbing furiously at the mascara streaks running down her cheeks. A pang of sympathy slipped through the cracks of my resolve.

"Serena?" I kept my voice low, careful not to startle her.

She met my gaze through the mirror, bloodshot eyes reflecting more than just exhaustion. They told a story.

Her story.

"I had no intention of being Derek's side chick, okay?" she sniffed, gripping the edges of the sink. "Like you, he made me believe I was the only one. That I was the woman he would drop everything for. That I was his future."

A humorless chuckle escaped her lips as she turned to lean against the counter.

"Seeing you two together that first time? That was my wake-up call. I was ready to walk away, keep my dignity intact. But he convinced me you were manipulating him. That you had something on him, and he just needed time to break free."

She shook her head, her voice thick with regret. "I was stupid. Maybe it was because I'd spent so long craving love that I clung to the fantasy instead of the truth. And now... because of him, my chances of ever having kids are slim to none."

I reached out instinctively, but she flinched as if my touch would burn her. She wiped at her tears aggressively, straightening her posture like she could physically push away the pain.

"Serena—"

"No," she cut me off, holding up a hand. "Don't pity me. Don't look at me like I'm weak. If you do, it means that bastard wins." Her face hardened. "So whatever you were about to say? Make sure it's worth my time."

She had built her armor back up in a matter of seconds, sealing off the vulnerability she had momentarily let slip. And in that moment, I saw it—past our differences, we weren't so different after all.

We were the same color, just different shades.

And so, instead of offering empty words of comfort, I chose the only response she would accept.

"I think I know exactly what we can do to make him wish he never met us."

For the first time since I'd known her, Serena smiled. Not a smirk, not a mocking curve of her lips—but a real, genuine smile.

I just hoped my plan would work.

***

"So, this is what you dragged me down here for?" Angie's voice was sharp, her finger jabbing toward Serena, who remained casually leaning against the table, looking entirely unbothered.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. This was going to be a headache.

"I know you don't like her—"

"So do you," Angie interrupted, shooting daggers at Serena, who merely smirked.

"But I'm willing to put aside personal feelings to take down the bigger enemy here," I argued. "Angie, you've always told me to stop letting Derek and my family walk all over me. Well, this is me finally fighting back. And I need you there to support me."

Angie's scowl wavered as she looked between us, arms crossed. "You're really set on this, huh?"

I nodded. "Not just for me. For him, too. I won't let them ruin my man's life."

A long pause stretched between us before Angie sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Fine." She raised her hands in surrender. "I won't start anything with her—on one condition."

I raised a brow. "And that is?"

"I get a front-row seat when you finally take those bastards down."

A slow smile spread across my lips as I reached for my phone.

Time to call Patrice.

This fight was just getting started.