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The attendant eyes Cherry’s baby bump. “We’ve got a special prenatal suite set up.”

“Oh, thank God,” she groans. “You have no idea how bad I want to lie down somewhere quiet and have someone rub hot oil on my back without trying to sell me baby socks.”

“You’re glowing,” I tell her, trying not to laugh.

She side-eyes me. “I’m glowing with rage and Tums.”

We’re led into a private suite—muted lighting, plush loungers, a tray of spa snacks (cucumber water, fresh berries, lavender shortbread), and enough fluffy robes to make us feel like pampered royalty. Some kind of soft acoustic playlist hums in the background and, for a second, I just breathe.

Then Frankie drops onto his lounge chair, eyes fixed on me. “Okay, so before I launch into my tragic-but-fabulous love life, I need you to tell me why Cherry keeps giving me dagger eyes every time I bring up our love life. What am I missing?”

I sigh and settle onto a lounger, curling into my robe. “He’s my ex. And he’s… persistent. Calling from blocked numbers, leaving voicemails, flipping between begging and being downright abusive. I didn’t take it seriously at first, but it’s escalated lately.”

Frankie’s brows knit, the sparkle in his tone softening. “Ugh. No. That’s not okay. At all.”

Lexi leans forward slightly, voice quieter now. “Can I say something that might sound a little heavy?”

“Of course,” I say, straightening.

She exchanges a glance with Cherry, who nods once.

“My ex-husband was charming. Smart. Smooth. Until he wasn’t,” Lexi says evenly. “I ignored a lot of red flags. I told myself he was just angry. Just emotional. Until one day, he snapped and almost killed me. I was already pregnant with Theo at the time and it was bad. But the next time he came for me, he took Theo and almost succeeded in killing me. They found me in time but he disappeared for two days with mine and Hunter’s infant son.”

My heart freezes in my chest.

“It took every ounce of power, legal and otherwise, to get him back. And I carry the weight of not seeing the danger sooner. So…” Her eyes meet mine. “Don’t assume Randy is just runninghis mouth. You don’t know where that line is until he’s already crossed it.”

My throat goes dry. “Thank you. I mean it.”

She nods, and the room goes quiet for a beat. Not awkward—real. Grounded. One woman gently giving another permission to protect herself, without guilt.

Frankie lets out a breath. “Okay. Now I definitely need to book a group therapy session for us. With snacks.”

Lexi smiles and leans back. “Back to the fun stuff. Couples’ gossip. Laney asked how we all manage to look so disgustingly in love.”

“Oh yeah,” Cherry snorts. “Tell her the proposal story.”

Lexi groans. “You’re ridiculous.”

Frankie perks up immediately. “Oh, oh, oh—yes. I want every detail.”

Lexi rolls her eyes, cheeks flushing with color. “Fine. Hunter proposed in this little French restaurant. Low lighting, candles, this piano player in the corner. He waited until dessert and then slid the ring across the table and told me seeing me as a mother to his son made him fall in love with me all over again.”

“That man has restraint,” Cherry mutters. “If I had that ring, I’d have thrown it at your face by the time the appetizers landed.”

“And then,” Lexi continues, her voice softer now, “he stood up, pulled me out of the booth, and we danced. Right there. Just us.”

My heart practically lurches. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

Frankie wipes an imaginary tear. “I’m so single it physically hurts.”

We all laugh, the tension gently lifting again.

“So, what about you?” Lexi asks me next, eyes warm. “What’s your favorite Eddie moment?”

I smile without even thinking. “The first time he played for me. Just him and a guitar, no spotlight. I think I forgot how to breathe.”

Lexi’s smile deepens. “He talks about you like he already knows. Like he’s not hoping—it’s already decided.”