Page 82 of The Wright Man

Angelica

"Lemme get this straight," Tina's voice boomed in my ear, "He thought buying some flowers—that you don't even like—and halfway listening to you talk about your day was gonna get him some ass? Just like that?"

I heard her snap her fingers in the background, like the punctuation mark she knew she was.

"That's the gist of it," I said dryly, tossing a sugar scrub into the basket.

"After not touching you at all for the past year?"

"More like year and a half," I muttered, "but yeah."

Tina sucked her teeth. "Yellow bitch must be out of his goddamn mind."

I barked out a laugh and carried my basket deeper into Target, weaving through a row of overpriced candles I didn't need. Tina's righteous fury was ridiculous, theatrical, and exactly what I needed right now.

Because the truth was, she was right. Gavin was acting real out of pocket lately.

And not in the usual "condescending jackass" way, either. Lately, he'd been... nice.

Waking up early to kiss me on the cheek before I left for work. Asking about my day and pretending to listen. Hugging me when I came home, like the past year and a half of cold shoulders, stone silence, and snide little comments had never happened.

I should've been relieved. Should've been grateful for the shift.

But instead, I felt like I was being studied. Like he was taking notes for a role he hadn't rehearsed well enough. Everything he did felt... off. Too calculated. Too sudden.

It was exhausting—waiting for the mask to slip.

I stopped in the skincare aisle and tossed two jars of brown sugar scrub into my basket. Sister Sunday was coming, and we were going all out this time. Sheet masks, lip scrubs, turmeric serums, body butters. The Reed girls didn't play when it came to spa night.

Tina was bringing drinks. Bella had food duty. I was in charge of skincare and vibes. It was the last big night we'd have together before everyone scattered for the summer—work, school, travel, grown woman responsibilities. We were overdue for one more night of barefoot chaos and bottomless mimosas.

She wasn't done. "He really rolled up with them sad-ass flowers and thought that alone was gonna unlock the pearly gates? No effort? No vibe-setting? Didn't even offer to warm up his jaw first?"

I blinked. "Tina."

"I'm just saying," she replied. "After all the shit he's put you through? He could've at least offered to eat some pussy, like a man with some damn manners."

I laughed so hard I almost dropped the vanilla foot scrub I was debating. "Tina!"

"Nah, for real," she said, undeterred. "As much as he's been fuckin' up, I would've made him eat ass. With eye contact."

I had to lean against a shelf, laughing so hard it startled a woman passing by with her toddler. I offered her an apologetic smile, then wheezed into the mic. "You are so sick."

"And yet still better husband material than Gavin," she said breezily. "Print that on a mug."

I exhaled slowly, still chuckling, but the weight came back quick.

"Tee, I don't know what the hell he's doing lately. He's... being nice. All of a sudden. Like, hugging me before I leave. Waiting up until I get home. Trying to talk. But he still feels like... him. You know? Like he's wearing a costume that doesn't fit."

Tina hummed. "Mm. Bad when 'he's being nice' got you checking for demons."

"That's the thing," I said, pushing the cart forward. "It's not just that he's being nice. It's how. Like he Googled 'how to be a husband' and skimmed the SparkNotes."

I turned down another aisle, distractedly grabbing the rose clay face masks we all liked, while Tina sighed dramatically.

"Listen," she said, her voice losing some of its edge. "If your gut says something's off, trust it. Gavin's been giving fake nice for years. Just cause the mask is shinier don't mean the face underneath changed."

I switched my basket to my other arm, moving toward the other end of the store. I needed a few more things for Daddy's special dessert before his fishing trip, and I hadn't written the list down. Rookie mistake. My steps slowed a little as I exhaled.