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Mila’s jaw drops, her eyes going wide as saucers. “You bit Mr. Komarov?”

“I did,” I say, feeling a flush heat my cheeks. “He was furious with me. In the basement, it was bad between us. But he got me out of there, and slowly, he became thoughtful and patient. He protected me when I didn’t even know how to protect myself.” I turn my wineglass slowly, watching the pale yellow liquid catch the light. “And on that long drive home, we fell completely in love.”

I purposefully leave out the darker, messier parts. The hand around my throat. The stolen Mercedes. Getting up off the floor of the apartment and making Troy breakfast out of conditioned fear. I fold those painful moments neatly away, presenting the unbroken fairytale version where I didn’t run straight back to my abuser. It’s cowardly of me, but I want these remarkable women to think well of me. I want so desperately to feel worthy of sitting at this table with them.

Mila sighs happily, clutching her hands to her chest. “That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life.”

But Katia is watching me quietly. “Why didn’t you want to go home, Cora?”

The question lands heavily. Why is this so much harder to speak aloud than the horror of that basement?

They’ve been so brave with me.

I can be brave for them.

“I’m married,” I whisper, looking down at my lap. “My husband… He’s very controlling.”

I brace myself for judgment and confusion, but when I look up, all I see in their faces is profound empathy, and the protective solidarity of women who know what it means to be trapped.

Anya reaches across the table, her warm hand covering mine, squeezing tight.

“I am so, so glad you didn’t stay with him,” Anya says, her eyes fierce. “I’m glad you chose Mr. Komarov.”

A wave of emotion sweeps through me. They think I was brave and chose freedom, when the truth is Zevran had to drag me out of my own cage.

I want to confess everything to them, but my throat feels tight. All I can manage is a shaky, grateful nod.

Seeing my emotion, Mila lightens the air. “Who is ready for dessert? Because I am ordering the tiramisu, and nobody is going to stop me.”

We all laugh, the tension dissolves.

As we wait for our desserts, my phone lights up on the table again, another call from Zevran.

I don’t trust my voice to answer without crying, so I silence the screen and flip the phone face down. Across the restaurant, Ruslan’s phone immediately buzzes in his jacket pocket. I watch him answer it, murmur a quick word in Russian, and glance over at me. I give him a reassuring little nod, and he nods back before murmuring to his boss.

The desserts arrive, and we dive into tiramisu, chocolate fondant, panna cotta, and espresso gelato.

By the time the plates are cleared, Mila is describing her upcoming birthday party in two weeks, a celebration at a gorgeous rooftop restaurant overlooking the city skyline.

She looks around the table, her eyes sparkling. “You’ll all come, won’t you? I want it to be just us girls—all of you, and my other friends. Please say yes.”

“Of course!” Anya says immediately.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Katia agrees warmly.

Mila turns her eager gaze to me.

A birthday party. I haven’t been invited to a party with friends since I was in high school. Troy cut off every friendship I had until my world was reduced to four walls and his angry footsteps.

“I would love to come, Mila,” I say, and I mean it with my whole heart.

As we wait for the bill, Katia sets her coffee cup down and looks at me across the table.

“I’m really glad you came today, Cora,” she says. “I don’t always find it easy to talk about what happened in that place. But I’m glad we could share our stories, and I’m so happy that something as beautiful as your engagement came out of all that darkness.”

“So am I,” Mila agrees, reaching out to squeeze my forearm. “Mr. Komarov is a good, man who deserves to be happy. And so do you, Cora.”

Anya gazes around the table at each of us. “We survived. We’re still here, and we are allowed to be happy.” She lifts her wineglass, her eyes shining with pride. “I’m so proud of all of us.”