I shake my head, reading his message. “Anthony,” I mumble as a key drops onto the table. “It’s the address for a storage facility where he’s keeping my stuff.”

“You have a month to empty out your stuff, a grand in your checking account, and a new phone will be delivered tomorrow to your sister’s house. Don’t ever contact me again.”

“Wh—are you serious?” Sydney picks up the key and inspects it. “Did you message him or call him after dinner last night?”

“No.” I set down the letter and stare at it, rereading his words. “Don’t ever contact me again. Sounds like he’s mad. How did he go from begging for dinner to this?”

Sydney slides the key back to me. “Who cares? We’ll get that storage unit emptied tomorrow. You need to take that grand and open an account at a different bank and make sure the phone is brand-new and with a different provider. You need to completely cut him out of your life.”

“Amen.” Deedy holds up her mug of coffee like a toast.

Me? I read the letter a third time. It makes no sense. Anthony thrives on winning. This isn’t him winning. It’s him surrendering.

“Deedy, I’ll get Ocean up and have Dad watch Asher. We are going to get our hair done because it’s your wedding day!” Sydney’s so much better at Team Deedy than I am, but I’ll get there.

I stare at my fingernails. They are neat and trimmed, but I should’ve gotten them painted. Men are done ruling my life, toying with my emotions, and trampling my self-esteem. “Do we have time to stop someplace so I can get a couple coats of polish on my nails?”

Sydney grins. “Absolutely.”

“Fuck me …” I whisper.

“Shh!” Sydney nudges my elbow. “We’re in church,” she grits through her fake smile as Jake walks Deedy down the aisle.

Jake Matthews in a suit. My ovaries just exploded, sending a volcano of heat down to disintegrate my panties. I didn’t think I could possibly hate him more, but I do. He gets an extra dose of hate from me today because of how fuckable he looks in that black suit and mustard and white tie that matches the color of our strapless Dress Barn dresses.

I think it’s that Jake looks completely out of place in a suit, which makes him look vulnerable despite everything else about him that screams confidence.

Peeling my gaze off Jake, I watch my dad. He often looked at my mom that way. I don’t remember all the looks he gave her, I was young, but I remember this one. It’s bittersweet because I’m happy for him, but I miss my mom. It’s bittersweet because I caught a few glimpses of Jake looking at me like that on our trip. But that’s all they were—glimpses.