Doesn’t want a kid, doesn’t want me . . . Deven pursed her lips, remembering one of the conversations that was now looming like a black cloud over their entire relationship. Well, could it really be called a conversation? Argument was more like it. One minute they were enjoying a dinner she had prepared, and the next he was dropping a bomb that he was moving to Baltimore. It was bad enough that he was having to go, but he had been the one to initiate the request for a transfer with his job, which was just downright heartbreaking. So, it wasn’t like Deven hadn’t wanted to tell him. There were just too many other variables in the mix. That was three months ago. And considering this was the type of news to share in-person, the fact that he lived out of state was really just a convenient excuse.

“I’ll tell him this weekend. He’s supposed to be coming home for a few days.” Deven winced, not entirely sure of the truth in her statement. To be honest, she hadn’t talked to Justin in over a week. For all she knew, his plans had changed, as they did. Often.

“I’ll tell you what.” Kennedy interrupted her thoughts. “Why don’t we go to the mall? I can get you something to eat”—Deven’s pointed look prompted her laugh—“and I can pick up this new purse I saw at Kate Spade.” Deven was sure Kennedy meant the Fashion District in Philly, a mere thirty-minute drive from their location. That seemed to be her preference. As if she needed to go shopping, Deven mused, side-eyeing the mound of clothes that nearly hid the floor from view. Her sister may have had a little spending problem. But it wasn’t like Deven could, or had a right to, monitor anybody’s funds but her own. Besides, a Philly cheesesteak did sound delicious right about then.

Kennedy had splurged and purchased a new Tesla not even a month prior. So, breaking in her new ride, Deven estimated they had shaved half off of the travel time to the next state over. One of the perks of living in South Jersey. Before they could get comfortable in the crisp, leather seats, Kennedy was steering the car into the parking lot of the Fashion District.

It was unusually crowded for a Tuesday which put a small damper on Deven’s mood. She wasn’t one to frequent the mall, especially in comparison to Kennedy, but when she did go, she preferred as few people as possible.

“You like this?”