You’re sitting at the head of the long table in your Monaco apartment, the scent of pasta, garlic bread and roasted vegetables still hanging in the air.

Lando is seated across from you, at the end of the table, leaning back casually, that easy grin on his face, the one that always makes your heart skip a beat.

Max is in the middle of telling the story of his first attempt at cooking risotto, clearly proud.

To your left, Pietra is halfway through her third glass of red wine, her cheeks already pink. She laughs, brushing Max’s arm.

On your right sits Tamara, your best friend for over ten years and next to her, Seth, who still acts like he belongs, but never quite convinces anyone.

You’re in the middle of serving yourself another portion of tagliatelle when your eyes land on Tamara’s hand.

“What’s that?” You ask, half amused, half suspicious, pointing at her left hand with the spoon.

Tamara glances down at her hand, then quickly drops her gaze to her plate. “Just a ring.”

“It looks like an engagement ring." You say, calmly. But your voice betrays the alarm going off inside you.

The look she throws you is defensive, almost defiant. You know that look. You’ve seen it before, during interrogations.

“Tamara, are you crazy?” You say, dropping the spoon back into the pot with a soft clang.

Lando looks up, suddenly more alert. He sits a little straighter, his gaze flickering from you to Tamara.

Pietra goes silent, her fingers reaching for her earring, fiddling with it as if trying to disappear behind it. Max stares up at both of you, but says nothing.

“We’re not getting married. I mean…not right away.” She finally says, like it’s no big deal.

“Then what is the ring for?” You ask, tension creeping into your voice.

Seth clears his throat. “It’s more of a promise ring.” That voice. That fake calm. You remember it far too well.

“That’s what an engagement ring is." Max says dryly, staring at him.

“I had a little bit of extra money." Seth says, lifting his eyebrows and tilting his head like it’s some kind of statement.

You let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “You had a little bit of extra money? You mean the 10 grand from the city, the back pay you got after you were fired for lying on the job? That money?”

The air turns to ice.

Lando is watching you. Pietra’s hands are folded in her lap, her lips pressed into a tight line. Max exhales, loudly.

Tamara stares at you, stunned. Her eyes glisten with a mixture of shock and pain.

You lean in, eyes locked on Seth. “You think I wouldn’t check? I trained you. You stood next to me in uniform and pretended to want to learn. Meanwhile, you were already falsifying reports and lying to everyone. I covered for you!”

“Stop it!" Tamara whispers.

“No. I’m a cop, Tamara. I check people. I looked into what he did after he got suspended. You know what I found. You just don’t want to hear it." You say.

Tamara jumps to her feet. Tears are welling in her eyes. “I knew you already made up your mind! You were never going to give him a chance!”

You remain seated, looking up at her. “Tamara, he’s had so many chances. You know he’s lying to you. The same way he lied to me, the whole time.”

She stands there, eyes shining with tears. Seth clenches his jaw, the muscle twitching under his skin.

“We’re leaving!" Tamara says, her voice trembling.

She throws her napkin down on the table with a dramatic motion, glances briefly around the Table. “Thanks for dinner…” Then, she looks at you. “…and thanks for being such a good friend.”

That last line cuts deep.

Seth rises and follows her silent. No protests. Just clenched teeth and that ever present tension.

The door slams shut.

You sit back in your chair, the fight draining from your body. Your gaze drops to your plate, the fork lies untouched on the rim and your hand trembles slightly.

Lando is watching you. No questions. No judgment.

He sees the war inside you.

As you shift to stand, he lifts a hand slightly. “Don’t…not yet." He says softly.