Chapter 82

~ Octavia ~ 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

By the time my birthday actually arrived a few days later, the tally of Franklin’s ignored attempts to reach me had climbed into the dozens. My phone was a graveyard of notifications I had no intention of resurrecting.

My mind was a mess, a jagged collage of that magical night on the beach spliced with the high-definition betrayal of those photos. How could he run so fast into the arms of another woman? Why did it feel like my life was a recurring cycle of people offering me a hand just to pull it away when I reached for it?

I didn’t want to wallow. I refused to let him ruin the day I turned twenty-nine. I started the morning with a quiet breakfast in Soho with my parents. It was a strange, peaceful contrast to the chaos of my marriage. My father gifted me a ticket to a Knicks game at Madison Square Garden for the end of the month—a peace offering I actually looked forward to. My mother gave me a beautiful new leather-bound journal and a set of fine china.

"Will you be bringing Franklin to dinner later this week?" my mother asked, her eyes hopeful. "We’d love to celebrate with both of you."

"I’ll think about it, Mom," I lied, the words tasting like lead. They didn’t know we were living in separate worlds, and I wasn’t ready to shatter their newfound happiness with my wreckage. Aside from Victoria, I wanted the world to believe I was fine.

By evening, Victoria arrived at my apartment like a whirlwind. She found me in my bedroom, staring blankly into my wardrobe.

"When was the last time you actually spoke to him?" she asked, sitting on the edge of my bed and stroking Nola’s soft fur.

"He called a few days ago. I didn’t pick up," I said, shoving hangers aside.

"But Octavia, don’t you think you should at least hear what he has to say? Just for closure?"

"What is there for him to say, Vic? He’ll just give me more ’perfect’ lies. I’ve reached my limit on his excuses. I’m done." I pulled out a long, modest ankle-length dress and turned around. "Is this okay for tonight? You still haven’t told me where we’re going."

Victoria made a face like she’d just smelled sour milk. "Absolutely not. That looks like you’re heading to a morning church service followed by a very long shift at the office."

"I’ve worn this to the office," I mumbled, looking at the fabric.

"Exactly my point." Victoria shooed Nola out of the room and stood up. "Look, we are going to a nightclub downtown. And before you start protesting—it’s your birthday, you’re young, and you are coming. Period."

"I hate nightclubs, Vic," I sighed, already feeling the defeat. "The music is too loud, the drinks are too expensive, and the people are too much."

"Well, boo-hoo. You’re still coming."

I looked at her outfit—a white crop top that left nothing to the imagination regarding her toned midriff, denim shorts, and black thigh-high boots. "You’re...very revealed," I noted.

"It’s a club, honey! Skin is the dress code." She started rummaging through my closet herself. "We need to be there before nine. Here—wear this."

She handed me a shimmering silver mini-dress with thin spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. It was the kind of dress that demanded attention. I’d only worn it once before, to a themed party a year ago.

"Vic, it’s so short," I protested.

"I know. That’s the point. Now get in it."

I changed, and when I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back. The silver fabric hugged every curve of my body, making me look polished and radiant.

"How do I look?"

"Like a disco ball," Victoria grinned. "A very beautiful, very expensive disco ball."

The club was a sensory overload of electronic beats and neon lights. Victoria fought through the crowd and returned to our VIP booth with a tray of drinks.

"Happy birthday, birthday girl!" she yelled over the bass that vibrated in my chest.

I took a sip of my drink, the alcohol sharp and cold. Suddenly, a server appeared with a small cake topped with a sparkling firework.

Victoria started singing, her voice lost in the music but her smile bright. I felt a genuine lump in my throat. Despite the mess of my life, I had her.

"You deserve the world, doll," she said, hugging me tight. "Now, no more moping. It’s time to par-tay!"

We took several shots in quick succession.

The world began to blur at the edges, the sharp pain of Franklin’s betrayal softening into a dull hum. We hit the dance floor, losing ourselves in the rhythm. I let my hair down, literally and figuratively, laughing as Victoria spun me around.

When we finally sat back down, breathless and tipsy, Victoria leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Wanna play a game? Truth or Dare?"

"Weird choice for a club, but okay. I’m in," I said, reaching for another shot.

"You go first. Birthday girl rules."

"Fine. Dare," I said, feeling bold from the vodka.

Victoria scanned the crowded bar. Her finger went up, pointing toward the back of a man sitting alone at the far end of the counter at the dim side of the bar.

He was dressed in a dark suit, his shoulders broad and familiar.

"I dare you to go over there and kiss that gorgeous stranger," she said.

"Vic! No way!"

"Oh, come on! It’s for fun. It’s your birthday! You only live once—go get a birthday kiss from a handsome man and forget about your troubles."

"Fine," I huffed, my heart starting to race. "You’re going to get me arrested or embarrassed, but fine."

I stood up, the room spinning slightly. I navigated the crowd, my eyes fixed on the man’s back. I didn’t want to chicken out, so as I reached him, I didn’t even look at his face. I simply reached out, grabbed his shoulder to turn him, and leaned in, closing my eyes as I pressed my lips to his.

"What the..." the man gasped against my mouth.

That voice. My heart stopped. My eyes flew open, and I recoiled as if I’d been burned.

Standing there, looking equally shocked and holding a glass of scotch, was Franklin.

"Octavia?" he breathed, his eyes searching mine in the strobe lights.

The silver dress, the shots, the birthday joy—it all vanished in an instant, replaced by the cold, hard reality of the man I was trying so desperately to forget.