Kaavi and I made our way outside while Laura hung back to settle her bill with Andre’s assistant. This was my chance.

“Kaavs, look, I need to talk to you. I need to know—”

“Now’s not really a good time, Ams. We can chat later, okay?”

“No, look, I’m sorry. It’s just, this is all so much, and this whole idea of you and Spencer and now your parents and—”

“I really can’t talk about this now, Amaya.”

I knew I was rambling like I always did when I was nervous, but I had to try.

“No, look, I just want to know—”

“Amaya.” Her voice was low and fierce, and she kept glancing around to see if we were being overheard. “I know this must be weird for you, and I think it’s commendable that you came given that I’m marrying Spencer. But I honestly don’t have time for this, okay? I have a wedding to plan and so much craziness to attend to. I’m glad you’re here, but please understand that this wedding is definitely happening.”

It felt like she had reached out and slapped me. I know we haven’t spoken in years, but I was not expecting this—the sharp edge to her voice, the indifference toward me, her oldest friend. It stung far worse than the burn from her curling iron did.

“So, what are you ladies wearing tonight?” Laura’s voice rang out, and for the first time, I was relieved to hear it.

“You know my mother, right? I know she said it’s supposed to be casual, but please dress up. I just know her friends are going to show up draped in diamonds and designer wear.” Kaavi’s voice was different now. Smooth and perky, like she sounded in her videos. I guess the steel was just for me.

I knew, from religiously checking the wedding itinerary website, that tonight was a cocktail party at her parents’ house to “officially kick off the wedding festivities” and “welcome everyone who had flown down from abroad.”

“That’s what I was hoping.” Laura giggled as she made her way around the other side of the car to get in. I was about to open the door myself when Kaavi stopped me.

“Hey, so I actually have a meeting I need to get to. Take the car and get yourself dropped home, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

I should say something. I should try to talk to her again. But I knew it was no use.

“But why don’t we just drop you off on the way?” I said instead.

“Oh no, don’t worry. You must be exhausted, and this meeting is just around the corner. I’ve already called an Uber, see?” She waved her phone in front of me.

“But you’re just going to Cinnamon Grand. It’s only two minutes away.”

She paled a little when I said that—I guess she hadn’t expected me to actually look at her phone—and glanced around to see if Laura or the driver heard.