“That’s it, my lovelies. I need to start wedding planning. Oh gosh, it feels so funny to say that. Who would have thought I would be a Mrs. at the very start of the new year! And as always, if you loved hearing about my good news, please don’t forget to hit that like button and subscribe to my channel. Love and peace to all of you!”

I just sat there, staring at my laptop screen for so long that YouTube started auto-playing a clip from Say Yes to the Dress. I didn’t even have the energy to turn it off.

“Amaaayaaaa?” Jessica dragged my name out. “Hello? Are you even here?” She had a point. I had pretty much forgotten that I was still at brunch. When I wasn’t watching the video on my phone, I was replaying it in my head, over and over again.

“Sorry. I’ve just been a little preoccupied.”

I would have given my right arm to have skipped this meetup. I had actually messaged Jessica and canceled, saying I wasn’t feeling well, but she didn’t buy it—probably because I was always trying to bail on her. She showed up at my door with a bowl of soup, a cup of coffee, and some Tylenol, all of which were discarded on my kitchen counter while she shoved me into the shower and picked out my clothes while I was in there. It was forward and pushy and usually why I liked her. Someone to shake me out of my comfort zone of takeout Chinese food and a movie on my couch on Friday nights, and reading in bed on Saturday mornings. And I usually did have a good time going for brunch, or cocktails, or to some gallery opening that Jessica always seemed to be invited to.

So here I was—forcing myself to sip on overpriced mimosas and nibble on artistically plated avocado and poached eggs when my mind was ten thousand miles away, obsessing over a wedding that should never happen.

It wasn’t a terrible morning. I was just having brunch with Jessica, Deepa, and Imogen, all of whom knew one another from the spin class they took three times a week, though I only knew Jessica since she was a supplier for my store. All three women were upbeat without being too intense, friendly, and always up for a laugh. We’d been doing this lukewarm brunch routine for about a year now. The sun was shining and the breeze was light. I should be having a better time. Not constantly checking my phone to see if Kaavi had uploaded anything new.

Maybe I should just talk about it a little? Maybe I’d feel less terrible if I did? At least, that’s what Dr. Dunn said, right?

“That’ll be $33.55 each,” I heard the lady at the table next to ours tell her friends, and I took that as a sign.

I cleared my throat and looked at Jess hesitantly.

“It’s just, well, my ex–best friend is getting married. To my ex-boyfriend.”