The front door clicked shut behind Kate, and for a moment the living room was silent — the kind of silence that follows a slammed boundary.
Then Sarah scoffed and leaned back into the couch, pulling the blanket over her lap again.
"Whatever," she muttered. "I don't even know why I kept her around this long."
Jada let out a sharp laugh. "Girl, she really thought she was gonna lecture us in your house."
Maya shook her head. "Talking all proper, acting like she's the spokesperson for healthy marriages."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "And dressing like a cupcake every time she comes over. Pastels, bows, that little tote bag… she really be trying to look like a children's book character."
Jada snorted. "Sweet Strawberry Shortcake energy. Fuck her."
Maya added, "With the personality of a guidance counselor."
They all laughed — the kind of laugh that comes from tension breaking, not joy.
Sarah reached for the small gift bag Kate had left on the coffee table. "Let's see what Miss Perfect left behind."
Jada leaned in. "Probably a handwritten letter about communication."
Maya sipped her wine. "Or a Bible verse."
Sarah pulled out the tissue paper and found a small teddy bear inside — soft, beige, with a tiny ribbon around its neck.
"A teddy bear?" Sarah said, unimpressed. "What am I, five? The fuck was this bitch thinking."
Under the teddy was a Target gift card and an Ulta Beauty gift card.
Jada raised a brow. "Oh, she brought gifts‑gifts."
Maya leaned forward. "Check the amounts."
Sarah flipped the cards over and laughed under her breath. "I bet it's like twenty bucks on one and ten on the other."
Jada snickered. "She tried though."
Maya shook her head. "She really thought this was gonna soften the argument."
Sarah tossed the teddy onto the couch. "She could've at least gotten a Starbucks card. She knows I live there."
The girls laughed again — not kindly, not gently, but in that messy, defensive way people laugh when they're trying to avoid guilt.
Jada stretched her legs out. "Honestly? She'll be fine. She's sensitive."
Maya nodded. "And she'll probably journal about this for three hours."
Sarah shrugged, trying to ignore the small twist in her stomach. "She'll get over it."
But her eyes drifted back to the gift bag — the soft teddy, the pastel tissue paper, the quiet