Page 97 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

“And they didn’t.”

“No,” I say simply. “They didn’t.”

There’s no sting when I say it, no sharp ache.

“That doesn’t mean what he did wasn’t awful,” Sophie says.

“Oh, it was spectacularly awful,” I agree. “Like, truly a masterclass in how to destroy someone’s life.”

“But you’re not broken over him.”

I shake my head slowly. “I was more hurt by how it happened than who it was with, I think.”

Sophie lifts her glass. “To realizing men aren’t worth crying over unless they’re actually worth crying over.”

I laugh and clink my glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

We take a sip, and I find myself laughing lightly, as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. One I didn’t even realize I was carrying.

“Also,” she adds, eyes sparkling again, “those guys are absolutely coming over.”

I groan. “No.”

“Yes.”

“I refuse.”

She chuckles. “You don’t get to refuse. This is a social experiment.”

“I didn’t consent to be part of a study.”

“Too late.”

And sure enough, about thirty seconds later, Dimples and his friend appear at our table.

“Hey,” Dimples says, easy and confident. “Mind if we join you?”

Sophie beams. “We were just saying how much we love being interrupted.”

He laughs. “Good. That’s exactly the energy we were hoping for.”

Introductions happen.

Names I immediately forget because I'm too busy being aware of the fact that I'm, once again, completely unaffected.

We talk.

It’s fine.

They’re nice. Funny, even. One of them tells a story about getting locked out of his apartment that actually makes me laugh. Sophie is engaged, charming, and fully in her element.

I try, I really do, but there’s a disconnect. Like I’m watching myself participate instead of actually feeling anything.

And every so often, without warning, my brain flickers to a different voice.

Ethan, standing in the kitchen, sayingeatlike it’s both a suggestion and an order. Him watching me like he’s trying not to.

I press my lips together and take another sip of my drink.