Endurance

Abby's heels clicked sharply against the polished floor of Krapp and Associates, located inside a downtown office building where Jamie works. Each step fueled by a mixture of rage and desperation that had been building since Michael walked away from her at the altar. The video—that damned video—had destroyed everything. Someone had sent it to Michael, and Abby had a pretty good idea who that someone was.

She found Jamie's office door ajar. Without knocking, Abby pushed it open, causing Jamie to look up from her desk with mild surprise that quickly morphed into cool indifference.

"Abby," Jamie said flatly, setting down her pen. "What an unexpected pleasure."

Abby closed the door behind her with deliberate slowness. "Cut the crap, Jamie. We need to talk."

Jamie leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. The sleek lines of her tailored blazer emphasized her professional demeanor, a stark contrast to Abby's slightly disheveled appearance. "About?"

"You know exactly what about." Abby's voice trembled slightly. "The video. The one that someone conveniently sent to Michael right before our wedding."

Jamie's expression remained impassive, her brown eyes studying Abby from behind stylish glasses. "And you think I had something to do with that?"

"Don't play innocent. You've wanted Michael for yourself since forever." Abby planted her hands on Jamie's desk, leaning forward. "You're the only one who would benefit from our relationship falling apart."

"That's quite an accusation." Jamie stood, matching Abby's posture. "I assure you I've had nothing to do with any video."

"Bullshit!" Abby's voice rose. "Where were you that night? During my bachelorette party?"

"I was there, Abby," Jamie replied coolly. "At Club Euphoria, just like everyone else. Shelly and Becky tried to drag you with them after you got on that male stripper’s lap."

"I don't remember seeing you."

"You wouldn't." Jamie's lips curved into a slight smile. "You were too busy getting wasted and throwing yourself at anything with muscles in g-strings. Too preoccupied to notice much of anything, really."

The words hit Abby like a slap. She straightened, suddenly less certain. "I was drugged. Someone must've spiked my drink."

"Convenient excuse," Jamie said, walking around her desk to stand directly in front of Abby. "But we both know you've never needed much encouragement to make poor decisions."

Abby took a step back, her mind racing. If Jamie was at the club that night, she could have easily recorded everything. But something in Jamie's steady gaze made Abby hesitate.

"If you didn't send the video," Abby said slowly, "then who did?"

Jamie shrugged. "Maybe someone who might secretly be jealous."

The implication hung in the air between them. Abby felt a cold dread spreading through her chest. If Jamie was telling the truth, then someone else had orchestrated her downfall. Someone else had been watching, recording, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Oh God," Abby whispered, her anger giving way to panic. "If it wasn't you, then..."

"Then you have more enemies than you thought," Jamie finished for her, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Abby sank into the chair opposite Jamie's desk, her mind frantically cycling through possibilities. Monica? Carla? They'd been there that night, watching everything unfold. But they were her friends—weren't they?

"This can't be happening," Abby muttered, more to herself than to Jamie.

"It already has." Jamie returned to her seat, picking up her pen as if to signal the conversation was over. "Maybe instead of looking for someone to blame, you should consider that this is simply the consequence of your actions."

Abby looked up, meeting Jamie's gaze. For a brief moment, she thought she caught a flicker of something—triumph, perhaps—in those brown eyes. But it was gone so quickly she couldn't be sure.

"This isn't over," Abby said, rising shakily to her feet.

"It is for Michael," Jamie replied. "And that's what really matters, isn't it?"

As Abby turned to leave, her mind whirled with new suspicions and fears. If Jamie wasn't behind the video, someone else was. Someone who had been there, watching and waiting. Someone she had trusted.

The panic that had been simmering beneath her anger now threatened to overwhelm her completely.