Bodyguard (YN x Beyonce)

Part Sixteen

I had started spending more time with Gabby and Teyana to help take my mind off Bey. I was really lost without her, but they really been helping me stay sane.

Gabby's hotel room smelled like takeout and something sweet—probably those chocolate-covered strawberries she had ordered "just because." I had kicked off my shoes a while ago, curled up on the couch in an oversized hoodie, one leg tucked under the other as I munched on fries straight from the bag. The TV was on, but muted. Music played low in the background—one of her unreleased tracks, all soft vocals and velvet harmonies.

Gabby sat across from me, wine glass in hand, her bare feet propped on the edge of the coffee table like she belonged there. Like no time had passed.

"This feels familiar, huh?" she said, looking at me over the rim of her glass, her voice light, but there was something underneath.

I smiled. "Like old times. Minus the cheap wine and the busted Bluetooth speaker."

Gabby laughed, that soft, throaty laugh I used to love waking up to. "And that little ass apartment where we could hear the neighbors arguing every night."

I shook my head, grinning. "Like clockwork. Same couple, different drama."

We both chuckled, falling into a silence that felt... full. Not awkward. Just full. Heavy with things we weren't saying.

"So..." I asked, voice low and casual like it didn't matter, "you seeing anybody now?"

Gabby glanced over with that small, knowing smile. "Nah. Not really."

I lifted a brow. "Not really?"

She gave this soft little laugh and tucked a curl behind her ear like she was trying to buy herself a second. "I met someone after you. Tried to make it work. Thought maybe it could turn into something."

I nodded slowly, already sensing the but.

"But it didn't last long." She looked at me, eyes darker now—not sad, but deep. "I kept comparing her to you. Everything she did, I'd catch myself thinking how you would've said it different. Done it different."

I didn't respond right away. I just stared at the table, at that dumb strawberry that neither of us touched. My chest felt... tight. Like I could breathe, but I had to think about it first.

Then she set her glass down and looked at me—really looked at me—and I felt it before she said a word.

"You know, I've never really loved anyone the way I loved you."

I froze mid-bite. Her words didn't shout—they just... landed. Right in my chest. I looked away, grabbing my drink just to give my hands something to do, anything to do.

"Gabby..." I started, but my voice trailed off. I didn't know where I was even going with that.

She leaned forward slightly, her tone softer. "I'm not trying to make this weird. I just—I always thought what we had was real. I never really got over that."

And now the silence was loud.

I shifted on the couch, my body tense even under the hoodie. My brain was doing the math: past feelings plus the way she looked at me, minus the fact that I was in love with someone else now. And deeply.

"Yeah..." I said finally, trying to keep my voice casual, "we did have something real. But a lot's changed since then."

She nodded, her gaze holding mine a little too long. "I can tell."

That sat between us like fog. Not enough to suffocate, but thick enough to blur things.

Gabby looked over at YN with a faint smile, her voice soft but clear. "You really love her, huh?"

YN didn't even hesitate. "Yeah," she said, almost like the word had been waiting on her tongue the whole night. "I do."

Gabby nodded slowly, her eyes flickering down for a moment before meeting YN's again. "She's lucky to have you."

That hit YN a little deeper than expected. She felt it settle somewhere in her chest, right next to the guilt that had been building since she first walked into Gabby's room.

"You know," I said softly, "you're gonna find someone."

She glanced over at me, remote still in her hand. "Hmm?"

"I mean it," I said, turning to face her fully. "Someone who's gonna see you for everything you are. Who's gonna love the hell out of you."

She gave me a tight-lipped smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah... maybe."

I could tell she didn't believe it. Not really. The way her voice dipped, the way she went back to the remote like the conversation hadn't mattered. I could feel it—the weight of what wasn't being said hanging between us.

I watched her a moment longer, my chest tightening. I wanted to ask. I wanted to say, Is it because of me? But I didn't. Because if I did, it would open a door I didn't want either of us to walk through tonight.

I cleared my throat and reached for the remote. "So... you said you had more music to play me?"

She caught the shift—of course she did—and nodded, reaching for her laptop. "Yeah. Lemme queue it up."

I leaned back as the next track started, letting the music wash over us. But my mind? It was somewhere else entirely.

I didn't expect that moment to feel so heavy. I didn't expect her to say that. And now I couldn't stop wondering if she still wanted something I couldn't give.

Because my heart? It was already spoken for.