The break-up hit harder than you wanted to admit. You tried to act fine — tried to keep showing up to work, to the apartment you shared with Kate, to movie nights with Yelena — but they both noticed. They always noticed.

So when you came home one night, exhausted and emotionally wrecked, you found your suitcase already packed on your bed. Kate sat cross-legged beside it, sunglasses perched in her hair, a mischievous grin on her face. Yelena leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with herself.

“What is this?” you asked.

Kate tossed you a plane ticket. “A mission. Codename: Forget Him.”

Yelena smirked. “And we are very good at missions.”

You blinked. “You’re kidding.”

Kate hopped up, grabbing your shoulders. “Do I look like I’m kidding? We are going somewhere with drinks, beaches, and absolutely no men who suck.”

“Especially not ones who wear ugly leather jackets,” Yelena muttered under her breath.

The next thing you knew, you were in the back of a private jet, Kate talking your ear off about spa packages while Yelena loaded her duffel bag full of weapons “just in case relaxation gets boring.”

You told yourself it was just a getaway. Just two friends trying to help you forget the past. But when the sun went down that first night, and the three of you were sitting on the balcony — Kate’s head resting on your shoulder, Yelena’s laughter low and warm beside you — something changed.

The air felt different. Their glances lingered longer. Their touches felt heavier, charged.

It wasn’t about him anymore. It was about you — and the two women who refused to let you break alone.

“So,” Kate whispered, eyes glinting in the low light, “how are you feeling now?”

“Better,” you admitted softly. “Different.”

Yelena smirked. “Good. Because we are just getting started.”