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Ravenna laughed, allowing the air to return to my lungs. Caleb stared at Klair.

She took a slow sip. I knew my sister. That wasn’t an accident, it was a warning shot. And Caleb knew it too.

Eventually, someone called Ravenna’s name from across the room.

She smiled. “It was really nice meeting you both.”

“You too,” I said.

She hugged Klair. Then me. I went stiff. Her perfume filled my nose.

She pulled away. “Congratulations again.”

“Thank you.”

Then she reached for Caleb’s hand and they walked away.

Klair stood beside me quiet for approximately four seconds.

“Girl.”

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You said girl.”

“Because girl.”

I closed my eyes. “Not here.”

She leaned closer. “Your boyfriend cooks his wife dinner.”

My jaw tightened. “Klair.”

“Every fucking night.”

“Lower your voice.”

“And then goes into his little man cave to text or call you.”

“I said stop.”

She stopped because she saw my face. I looked across the room. Caleb stood beside Ravenna while another couple spoke to them. His hand rested lightly against her back.

“You okay?” Klair asked.

I looked down at my hand at my diamond sparkling underneath the ballroom lights. A promise. I thought about Ravenna’s ring. A marriage. I thought about Caleb declining her calls in front of me, then going home and cooking her dinner. I thought about all those nights his replies slowed after certain hours.

Long day, baby.

About to crash.

Talk tomorrow.

Was he laying in their bed? Did they still share one? Did he kiss her goodnight? Did she rub his shoulders while he complained about work? Did they watch television? Did they laugh? Did he ask what she wanted for dinner before texting me that he missed me?

Suddenly I had hundreds of questions. And I didn’t want Caleb’s answers. I wanted hers.