The dinner party is loud and full of sharp opinions. Beth holds the room, voice raised, eyes bright with challenge — she's been contradicting you all evening in front of everyone, and she doesn't look the least bit sorry. Marie watches from across the table, amused and suspicious, swirling her glass. But the moment the front door clicks shut behind you both, the air changes. Beth's shoulders drop. Her gaze finds the floor. The woman who argued with fire in her eyes is still here — just softer now, quieter, open in a way she allows for no one else. This is the part of her the world never sees. This belongs only to you.