forty-three
Colson
Idon’tknowhowthe night flipped so fast.
One minute it was string lights, lake air and Sadie smiling across the table like she’d finally exhaled. The next thing is this terrible sound creeping from the main restaurant area, ruining the vibes.
I didn't recognize the guy at first. I knew he didn’t belong here.
He’s standing too close to the patio entrance, half past Birdie like he pushed his way into the moment. His eyes are locked on Sadie in a way that makes my stomach drop. Possessive. Familiar. Like he thinks he still has a right.
Sadie goes still. Not frozen exactly—more like bracing.
Then it clicks. This has to be him. Nick.
I take him in quickly. He looks strung out. Not falling-over drunk, but wired and loose around the edges. Jaw tight. Movements jerky. Birdie’s tone tells me everything I need to know. This wasn’t a friendly pop-in.
He keeps trying to step closer, angling around Birdie, eyes never leaving Sadie.
“Hey,” I say, stepping in front of her without thinking. Calm voice. “You need to take a step back.”
He scoffs like he’s offended. “I just want to talk to her.”
Birdie snaps, “You don’t. And you’re not.”
I glance back at Sadie for half a second, checking in. Her hand grips the edge of the table, knuckles white. That’s enough for me.
“Birdie,” I say quietly but firmly, “go inside.”
She hesitates, clearly torn, then nods. “I’m calling this in,” she mutters, pointing at Nick. “You don’t go anywhere.”
Nick bristles the second she leaves. “Who the fuck are you?” he snaps at me.
I keep my voice even. “I’m not telling you anything. I’m asking you to lower your voice and give her space.”
He laughs, sharp and humorless. “Yeah, okay.”
Sadie shifts behind me, and I feel it—her fear, her anger, the way this guy is dragging her somewhere she didn’t choose to go tonight.
Nick tries to move again. I block him easily, not touching him, just existing in the way that makes it clear he’s not getting past me.
“That’s enough,” I insist. “You’ve made your point. It’s over.”
He opens his mouth like he’s going to argue. Like he’s going to push.
I don’t wait. I turn slightly, reaching back for Sadie’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
She doesn’t question it. Just stands and grabs her bag, fingers threading through mine like she’s been waiting for permission to go.
We move fast past Nick.
Inside the restaurant, heads turn. Chairs scrape. The air is thick with tension. I keep my body angled so Nick can’t get close, guiding Sadie through the narrow aisle toward the door in front of us.
Birdie’s voice rings out, loud and furious. “Nick! Give me your keys!”
There’s shouting. Someone swears. I don’t look back.
The only thing that matters is getting Sadie out of there—away from him, away from the noise, back to where she can breathe.
