Suddenly Tara’s dislike of her made sense. All the animosity she’d felt had been on account of Braithe’s feelings for Grant. She almost felt sorry for Tara; framing the past weekend in light of this current information, things were clicking together very quickly. The looks over the weekend, the tense moments and the tidy bitchiness that never quite warranted a callout—Tara had been torn between disapproving of Braithe’s decisions, trying to be loyal to her best friend and feeling angry at the attention she was giving Rainy.

“So why did you agree to invite me on the trip? As I recall, you were the one who pushed me that night, hand-holding and all.”

Tara’s answer didn’t roll off her tongue quite as easily this time. “I didn’t know what was going on—I mean, I knew she’d been pining for Grant for a decade, but when he started dating you, she seemed genuinely happy for him, and things with Stephen were going really well. It wasn’t until after we invited you on the trip that she told me how she really felt.” Tara paused to take a sip of beer and Rainy braced herself for what she was going to say next.

“She made it seem like a game. We were going to get the scoop on you and Grant. See how serious you really were.”

“That’s really fucked up.”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t say sorry. That was telling.

“Were the others in on this, too... Viola?”

Tara’s headshake was emphatic this time. “No, they—we never spoke about that stuff around them. I guess I always felt privileged that she chose me, you know?”

This version of Tara was a lot different than the one Rainy had come to know. She took in the ruffled, worried, strangely vulnerable woman. She felt nothing but anger.

“You could have been a decent person. Instead, you connived to gather information from me for Braithe, who is carrying a ten-year torch for my partner and is now planning on leaving her husband because of what a psychic said—and you want me to help you convince her to come back? Why would she listen to me, anyway?”

“Okay, when you say it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“Oh my God, Tara, because it is.” Rainy downed the rest of her warm drink and slammed it on the table next to the phone.

“Braithe is an adult. The decisions she makes for her marriage and life have nothing to do with us. Even if she is in love with Grant, he’s mine.” Rainy was over it. She wanted to—needed to—get off this call.

“So you’re just not going to do anything?” Tara’s mouth gaped open unattractively. “What if she, like...commits suicide?”

“What are you asking me to do? She’s literally plotting to steal my boyfriend.”