CHAPTER NINE – SPLIT APART

"Leave me be." The words were little more than a hoarse whisper, but they carried a world of pain. Andy stepped forward, his expression a mask of contrition. "Mara, please. Let me explain..." "Explain what?" Mara's voice rose, fueled by a sudden surge of anger. "How you lied to me? Cheated on me? Threw away everything we had?" Jenna stepped protectively in front of Mara, glaring at Andy. "You heard her, you piece of scum. Leave her alone" For a moment, Andy looked like he might argue further. But one look at the twin expressions of fury and heartbreak on the women's faces seemed to deflate him. He turned and left without another word, his new conquest trailing behind him like a vapid shadow. In the aftermath of that disastrous encounter, Jenna insisted Mara come and stay with her for a few days. "You shouldn't be alone right now," she said firmly, leaving no room for argument. And so Mara found herself huddled on Jenna's couch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as reillustrys flickered across the television screen. She barely registered them, her mind still swirling with a toxic mixture of sadness, anger, and self-doubt. How could she have been so blind? So naive to think that her and Andy could have their fairytale ending? Jenna seemed to sense the direction of her thoughts. She grabbed the remote, muting the TV. "This isn't your fault, Mara," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Andy is the one who made the choice to cheat. To lie and betray you. That's on him, not you." Mara nodded, but the words felt hollow. It was hard to silence the voice in her head that whispered she wasn't good enough, pretty enough, smart enough to keep Andy happy. Jenna must have read her expression, because she scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Mara's shoulders. "Listen to me. You are an amazing woman - kind, intelligent, beautiful inside and out. Any man would be lucky to have you. Andy is the one who screwed up royally by throwing away the best thing that ever happened to him." Tears pricked Mara's eyes as she leaned into her friend's embrace. She wanted desperately to believe Jenna's words. In the days that followed, Jenna became determined to pull Mara out of her depression, one distraction at a time. She dragged Mara along on long walks, café trips, and even a wine-and-painting night, anything to keep her from wallowing. Finally, after a week of moping around the apartment, Jenna decided it was time for more drastic measures. "We're going out tonight," she announced one evening, tossing Mara's cutest dress onto the bed. "And we're going to dance, drink, and flirt our asses off. It's been way too long since you've had some fun." Mara opened her mouth to protest, but the look on Jenna's face told her it would be futile. With a resigned sigh, she began getting ready. The club Jenna chose was one of the trendier spots in the city, all low lighting and pumping bass. Mara immediately felt out of place, tugging self-consciously at her dress as they made their way to the bar. Jenna, ever the social butterfly, ordered them a round of brightly-colored cocktails, shouting to be heard over the music. "Bottoms up!" she called, clinking her glass against Mara's. "This is going to be the start of your hot girl renaissance!" Mara couldn't help but laugh at her friend's enthusiasm, even as she grimaced at the overly-sweet flavor of her drink. As the night wore on, however, and drink after drink was consumed, she began to feel the familiar heaviness of depression settling over her once more. Jenna seemed to pick up on her mood, because she grabbed Mara's hand and dragged her onto the dance floor with a whoop of excitement. For a little while, Mara was able to lose herself in the throbbing rhythm, her body moving on muscle memory as she let the beat wash over her. But eventually, she found herself sinking back into the depths of her own mind, reliving memories of happier times with Andy. Tears pricked her eyes, and she signaled to Jenna that she needed some air. Pushing her way through the crowd, Mara found herself at the edge of the bar, gripping the cool surface as she tried to catch her breath. That's when she noticed him - a tall, broad-shouldered man nursing a glass of whiskey nearby. There was something about the way he carried himself, a quiet confidence that immediately drew the eye. As if sensing her gaze, he turned, locking eyes with Mara from across the bar. In that moment, everything else seemed to fall away - the pounding music, the jostling bodies, even the lingering ache of her heartbreak. All that existed were those piercing green eyes, sparking with a mixture of curiosity and unmistakable heat. Mara felt her breath catch in her throat as the man raised his glass in a subtle salute before moving towards her with the practiced grace of a jungle cat. Up close, his features were even more striking - chiseled jaw, full lips quirked in a half-smile, and a mane of tousled dark hair that just begged for a woman's fingers to run through it. "Well, hello there," he purred, his voice rich and smooth like aged bourbon. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. You seemed a little...out of place in this meat market." Mara felt heat creeping up her cheeks at his boldness. Any other time she might have bristled at such a forward come-on. But tonight, buoyed by liquid courage and a bone-deep ache to be desired, she found herself leaning in slightly. "I'm Cassius, by the way." He extended one large hand, his grip firm and confident as it enveloped her own. "Mara," she replied, struggling to keep her voice from wavering.