“Then comes a new home and a fresh start,” Jules says, cutting her off and Sue laughs from her spot in the corner of the living room where she’s been silent all night. Something’s definitely gotten to Sue too.

Although maybe it’s me, maybe I’m why everyone seems off.

“House first, then the baby,” Jules states and then switches the song playing to something more upbeat and less sad. I agree with that decision wholeheartedly.

“Love your house,” Sue comments, not bothering to bring up the idea of a child. “Or is it technically a mansion?” she half jokes.

It’s grand and spacious and much more like Jules’s style than her new husband Mason’s previous home. She got a deal on this property and the amount of space is making me regret buying a place so close to the park. It reminds me how tiny our townhouse is. At least compared to this. Location is everything and we paid handsomely for our little place.

This is also a family home, and I live in a townhouse that’s not meant for anything more than two people … potentially one child, but it would be cramped. I force my lips to stay in place and swallow down the frown and all the feelings threatening to come up.

Full circle I go, all day long. My thoughts always come back to Mason and what we had and everything we could still have.

With a bitter sigh I hope no one heard, I finish my water and get up to grab another drink, shimmying past the three opened boxes and paper sitting on the floor. I made this decision. I need to own up to it and deal with the consequences.

“I’m not sure I can do this girls’ trip,” Sue says seemingly out of nowhere. I’d nearly forgotten about the mention of a trip. I guess that’s how much it means to me.

“It’s just that work …” she adds and then pauses to chew the inside of her cheek. She braces herself on a polished wingback chair before rising and picking up her wineglass. “I’ve got a new boss and he’s a dick with a capital D. There’s no way he’s going to give me time off.”

“It’s not really his position to give it to you,” Maddie says skeptically. “Like, you earn your days. And we haven’t even set a date yet.” The aggressiveness in Maddie’s voice catches me off guard.

Sue stands, an empty glass in hand, meeting me at the small sink filled with ice and bottles of rosé and cabernet. With a glass of wine in her right hand and a ball of packaging paper in her left, she strides past a very young and not at all familiar with the corporate world Maddie, and responds with certainty, “He’ll give me shit.”