“Not yet, Casey. You know Brian came over right after you asked and then I had to hurry up and get dressed for this stupid thing. When would I have had time to do that?”

“I don’t know. But you said you would do it.”

“I’m sorry, but I think this is just a tad more important than seeing how things with your hot hookup might work out in the long run. My life has literally just been turned upside down. Again.”

By now, the guy who was lingering around her has left and it’s just she and I bickering in front of the bar.

“You want to know what’s so funny, Charlotte?” she says, a little too cool for my liking.

What could possibly be funny right now?

“Nothing about me is ever important enough for you, except for the whole facet of my being,” she spouts off.

“I have literally no idea what that even means,” I say of her philosophical-sounding statement. “I’m just going to order myself an Uber.”

I pull out my phone and she pushes my arm down.

“No, take a second and think about it. You’ve never once been to any of my oddity exhibits. You never ask me anything about my life unless it somehow makes yours easier—if I can walk your dog, if you can have some of my wine, drink one of my LaCroixes. And you don’t do what you say you’ll do...even the little things. I mean, I bring your freakin’ mail up for you. I pay our tab at the bar with my hard-earned cash. I ask you to come with me to things like this for free. And you can’t even take five minutes to tell me if Justin was husband material? But at the same time as you not giving a shit about me, you need me. For everything. You needed me to keep you from being alone when your husband died. You needed my furniture to replace the stuff you bought with him so you wouldn’t have to sit on a sad memory every time you watched TV. You needed me because I’m a homebody, but also not the type to ask you to go to barre class, or talk about what happened on Grey’s Anatomy last night. I’m all that you need, and nothing that you don’t so that you don’t have to be inconvenienced by your past. Go ahead. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re a random Craigslist roommate who I happen to not have been killed by yet,” I say as if delivering the final line of a rap battle. “Now, if you want to stay here with these losers, so be it. I’m heading home.”

“Bullshit. There’s nothing random about me. You picked me on purpose, and you know it. I’m an escape route for you and I’m not going to be that anymore. So I guess you better call that Uber and leave me here with ‘these losers.’”

I stare at Casey, the queen of questionable decisions. How could she completely tune out everything I just said about Decker having a child? It took a lot for me to open up to her about him, and now the story has just taken a turn for the worse and she couldn’t care less. If anyone is being selfish here, it’s her.