Page 61 of The Wright Man

"Mm," he hummed, like he was actually listening. "You look happy."

I wasn't sure what to do with that. I laughed, uneasy but polite. "I am. It was just... a really good day."

I started unloading things from my hands—cake box, stacked foil containers, my dad's extra Tupperware he refused to wash himself. Gavin's eyes shifted to the final item in the pile: the sleek black gift bag Maleek had handed me.

"What's that?"

"Oh," I said, tone casual but instantly wary. "Just... a gift."

"A gift?" His brows rose. "Somebody brought you a gift to your daddy's birthday party?"

"It wasn't just me," I said carefully, already feeling the ground shift beneath us. "Maleek brought gifts for all of u—"

"Maleek?" The way he said the name—like it tasted rotten. "Your little boyfriend from back in elementary school?"

I tensed. "Maleek was never my boyfriend."

He scoffed. "So that's why you didn't want me to come."

And just like that, the warmth in the room evaporated.

I stared at him, stunned. "What? Gavin, I never said I didn't want you to co—"

"You didn't have to," he snapped, sitting back with that smug, wounded-man posture I knew too well. "I thought some time with your folks might clear your head, remind you what really matters. Make it so we could have a decent night for once. But I should've fucking known better."

I clenched my jaw, refusing to let him spin the narrative again. "It was my dad's party, Gavin. He wanted Maleek there. He showed up, he gave out a few gifts, he said hi to everybody. That's it."

"Right." He leaned forward, sneering. "So why didn't you tell me he was gonna be there?"

"Because I didn't know for sure!" I said, my voice rising despite myself. "I didn't even have his number. It was a surprise."

"Oh, I bet you got his number now though, huh?" His tone was pure accusation.

"Yes, I do," I said, straightening up. "He's my best friend. He's home for good, and I want to reconnect."

"Best friend?" he repeated, like the words were absurd. "Please. You haven't talked to that nigga in years. Don't try to blame that on the military either—your sisters stayed in touch with him the whole time."

I took a breath. A long one. Focused on the warmth Maleek left in me earlier. On the calm.

"Gavin. Maleek and I are friends. I have always been his friend. And he's always been mine. That's never going to change."

And to my shock, I didn't stutter. Didn't shrink. The words came out clean. Firm.

Maybe being around Maleek again did more than just lift my mood. Maybe it reminded me I still had a spine.

But my moment of pride was short-lived.

Gavin narrowed his eyes, cruel smirk forming. "Right. Your friend. The one you never shut up about until I put that ring on your finger. The one you always ran to when we had a fight. The one you compared me to every time I wasn't kissing your ass fast enough."

My heart dropped.

He kept going, voice colder now. "No wonder you came back here smiling like a damn idiot. Bet it felt real good being 'the one that got away' for a night."

The blow landed. Clean. Sharp. Right under the ribs.

I didn't respond. Couldn't. I just looked down at the gift bag. Reached for it like it was some kind of lifeline, something pure and real in a house that suddenly felt too small to breathe in.

Gavin cursed under his breath and stood up, walking away like he hadn't just gutted me.