Sanam moves to where I stand, hugging me with more empathy and love than I ever thought she was capable of feeling. I’m furious with her for rolling on drugs, but her kindness right now makes it hard to be angry. Her expensive perfume moves through my nose, making my eyes tingle. It’s the same scent she’s been wearing since we were in college, reminding me of when we lived together during our senior year at UCLA. Memories of how we’d find lunch specials from the fanciest restaurants and eat there, waiting for rich businessmen to see us and ask us out for dinner. It was all fun and games for me but not for Sanam. Over time, finding the man with lined pockets became everything to her.

We used to be inseparable. But our priorities changed drastically over time, and at this point, we couldn’t be more different. I want to still love her because of what was, but it feels as though I can no longer trust her. In fact, everything in my life these days looks and feels like filler, overstuffed with fleeting conversations and pretentious hellos.

She pulls back, smiling. “I know I’m getting married, and you’re not. I mean, not for a really long time at least. But we have to stay best friends forever, okay?” Her voice is high-pitched and haughty.

For the millionth time tonight, I ask myself if she has always been this bitchy and I never really noticed or if it’s a new development in her personality now that she’s about to be Mrs. Reza Nader.

Pushing her thick black hair over one shoulder, she smiles like she just won the lottery. Technically speaking, she has. Reza is rich.

I let out a, “Mmhmm,” as I try not to slap her off the metaphoric high horse she’s sitting on. Turning my body to the side isn’t a choice but done for her preservation.

From my side-eye, I see her duck lips purse. She clears her throat, as though she’s trying to get my attention.

“I’m telling you this because I love you. You’re getting older, and it’s time to wake up. There’s no such thing as love. What’s real is money. You are beautiful right now, but in a few years, you’ll be older. Newer stock is going to rise. Just get in the game and close the deal with one of these wealthy men we know.”

I swing around, facing her head-on. “I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can,” she interrupts. “You can, and you should. I know you believe that love will conquer all and blah, blah, blah. I thought, over time, you’d grow out of it, but you’re still stuck in that stupid mindset. Why should you live in a small and crappy apartment with a man who’ll eventually cheat on you with some dumb slut in his office? News flash: whether he’s loaded with money or poor and hood, they all do the same shit. At least with the rich one, you’ll be able to live an amazing life of travel. Parties. Dinners. Private planes. Reza has a lot of friends I want you to meet at the wedding.” She smiles excitedly.