Page 112 of The Wright Man

Bella snorted. "You're an icon."

"I smell hash browns," Tina added, tossing her robe belt over her shoulder like a scarf.

We descended on the brown paper bags like hungover vultures. Maleek had damn near ordered the entire breakfast menu—three of everything, plus drinks—and I felt my soul re-enter my body at the smell alone. Bella took a bite of her sausage biscuit with a moan straight out of an erotic audiobook. I bit into a McGriddle like it was my last meal. Tina grabbed an orange juice and made a beeline for the kitchen for a mimosa.

"Tina, are you serious?" I called after her.

"What? Hair of the dog and all that," she called back, already cracking open the prosecco in the fridge.

My sisters were nuts. Unhinged, wine-soaked, dramatic as hell—and I loved them so much I could burst. I looked at them, really looked, and felt a full-bodied kind of peace I hadn't felt in years. Like I'd taken my soul off the shelf and remembered how to wear it.

"Let's take another pic for Maleek," Bella mumbled around a mouthful of biscuit. "Say thank you."

We all scrambled together on the couch. Bella was mid-bite, crumbs on her lip. Tina opened her mouth wide with a chewed up biscuit on display. I blew him a kiss.

We looked chaotic. We looked perfect.

I hit send.

I heard footsteps on the stairs. The energy shifted like a cold draft through a warm room.

Gavin.

He came stumbling down the stairs, rumpled and red-eyed, clearly hungover but still dressed in slacks and a wrinkled button-down for work.

His tie hung loose around his neck like a noose he hadn't committed to yet.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and blinked at us.

"Did y'all have to start the day so loud?"

The three of us turned in slow motion to glare at him. I could feel the weight of my sisters flanking me like battle flags.

Tina raised a single brow. "Almost like somebody shouldn't have thrown a boys' night to spite his wife and then drank himself into a coma out of bitchassness."

Bella nodded solemnly. "Mmhm. Sounds like poor life choices."

Gavin's eyes scanned the table. Saw the spread.

"You ordered food?"

I didn't even blink. Just smiled sweetly and said, "Maleek sent it."

Silence.

He stared at me. I took a bite of a hash brown like I was starring in a commercial.

The message was loud and clear.

He looked away first. I knew he would. His face twisted into something ugly and sour, but he didn't say another word. Just muttered about work, grabbed his keys, and sulked toward the door like a brat denied his Xbox.

"Have a good day, babe," I sang after him, thick with syrup.

He slammed the door behind him.

I didn't flinch.

Tina screamed first. "YES, BITCH."