“I’m so sorry. I never imagined...” It sounded like it hurt for her to speak. Rainy saw her look longingly toward the water bottle. She made a noise that sounded like she was trying to clear her throat. She knew it was ridiculous, given the situation they were in, but she needed to know.

“He’ll come back soon. What happened between you and Grant during the baby shower?”

The kitchen retuned to an awkward silence. Rainy could hear Braithe’s labored breaths.

“Nothing,” she said finally. “God, absolutely nothing.”

“But you tried...”

Her answer came slower this time, labored. “Yes, I tried.”

“Why did you pretend to be my friend?” She licked her lips. Everything hurt.

“That was real. I like you.”

Rainy tried to laugh but it was just a crackle. Braithe had used her to have more access to Grant: the couples’ nights, the dinners, had put her in his life more soundly than it had with just her and Stephen. Now, in light of everything, she was seeing Braithe differently. Not as the elegant, kind friend, but as a conniving, manipulative liar. Maybe she had liked Rainy, but it was only to use her.

“But you liked Grant more.”

“Yes, I suppose you could see it like that. At first, I thought I was making the right choice, with Stephen,” she said softly. “He was so good to me, and Grant...well, he was never as into me as I was into him, if I’m being honest. When we were together, I was like an afterthought. I suppose that’s when the addiction really started.”

“The addiction to what, Braithe? To Grant? To wanting what you don’t have?”

“That’s fair... I get it. But he didn’t want me back, Rainy. And I don’t know what’s going to happen here, but you should know that.”

Rainy leaned her head forward and hit it backward against the table leg. It hurt but it felt good, woke her up a little. She wasn’t going to thank Braithe for telling her that Grant wouldn’t cheat on her. This woman was not her friend.

“He’s who you were talking about the night we played that game.” It wasn’t a question, and Braithe didn’t try to answer it. “And you’re the one who asked my question, not Tara. What were you going to do if I didn’t draw that question? Use it as an opening to ask me, anyway?”

Braithe’s silence confirmed that she was correct.

“Did you call Grant that night?”

Even in the dim light, Rainy could see her head bounce in a nod.

“Yeah. I called to tell him again how I felt.”