Page 187 of The Wright Man

"Hmm? What we talking about?" I asked, dragging my brain back into the living room as I squirmed deeper into the couch cushion. My voice came out breathy and guilty, like a woman who had very obviously been somewhere else entirely.

Across the coffee table, Bella and Maleek both smirked like they'd been watching me zone out in real time. Tina just gave me that older-sister glare through the FaceTime screen, eyes squinted and mouth pursed like a disappointed principal.

"I know your little hot ass wasn't having dick flashbacks while I was talking."

My face ignited immediately. "I was not!" I protested, even though I absolutely was. My entire body had been humming, tingling, floating in this slow-release echo of last night's kisses and this morning's tangled warmth. Just me and Maleek and the kind of quiet that made your whole chest feel full.

"Mmhm," Tina said with a smug curl of her lip. "You was in deep. Your eyes went soft, then glazed over, then I saw the lil' thigh clench. Don't play with me."

"I hate it here," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.

Maleek—without even looking up from his plate—shrugged and added casually, "She ain't even had the dick yet."

Bella gagged dramatically, stabbing her eggs like they hit her first. "Can y'all not?" she groaned, holding up both hands. "Nobody wants to hear about hand stuff over breakfast. Or mouth stuff. Or whatever phase of stuff y'all are in."

I couldn't help laughing at that, shaking my head even as my cheeks burned. It was all a little surreal. A little too perfect. But real. So real I could feel it in my bones.

Tina cackled, loud and gleeful. "Okay, lovebirds! I see y'all out here giving pre-dick intimacy with your glowy little skin and your eye contact. Angie, you're love drunk." She leaned closer to the screen, eyes still teasing but full of something warmer now. "I do love that for you. This is so behind schedule it might as well be accruing interest. But that doesn't mean you get to ignore me, Miss Ma'am. Pay. At. Ten. Shun." She clapped with each syllable.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Your Royal Ratchetness, you now have my full, undivided attention."

"Thank you," she said with a wink. "Now. As I was saying..."

Tina sat up straighter, flipping her curls dramatically and clearing her throat with mock ceremony. "I would like to officially declare today a most auspicious Sister Sunday. Mark it down in history, bitches—today is the Emancipation of Angie: Part One."

I laughed under my breath, already bracing for the foolishness.

"Part Two," she continued, "will commence once I'm back in town and can be a proper bad influence. And Part Three—" she held up a third manicured nail at me through the screen, "—will be when those papers are filed and you are officially SINGLE and free of that crusty, manipulative, brush-his-tongue-with-Colgate-and-lies-ass man."

At that, Maleek finally looked up, his expression sharp.

"You mean divorced," he corrected, his voice low and unmistakably territorial. "She might be dropping the Riddler, but ain't a damn thing single about her."

Tina and Bella rolled their eyes so hard it was synchronized. "Okay, Mr. Wright," Tina drawled. "Yes, divorced. Relax your beard."

Maleek gave her a look that said he'd allow it—for now—and returned to his food.

Tina clapped her hands again. "Now. Here's the plan. We were already gonna do Sister Sunday via FaceTime, but since Bells is gracing the DMV with her presence this weekend, she's been officially promoted to Deputy Bad Influence. Her mission—should she choose to accept it—is to get you as liquored up and full of 'fuck that nigga' energy as humanly possible before you file tomorrow and have to face the rat bastard again on Tuesday."

Bella nodded seriously. "I'm Doordashing the wine as we speak."

Tina was already typing something on her phone. "I'm building the playlist—SZA, Summer Walker, Jhene Aiko, and some old-school Keyshia Cole. Might even throw in a little Jazmine Sullivan for rage and range. We got layers, baby."

"I don't know if you're healthy or dangerous," I said, grinning into my coffee.

She paused, thoughtful. "Ooh. Do y'all know if 'Waiting to Exhale' is streamable anywhere? Because I swear on Bernadine's silk robe, that woman is the blueprint for fed-the-fuck-up wives everywhere. Fire. Car. Cigarette. I need that energy in the room."

I shook my head, grinning like a fool despite myself. Only my sisters could make planning a spiritual divorce party feel like brunch prep. And yet, their chaotic support was exactly what I needed. I felt lighter already.

Bella leaned back in her chair, sipping her juice. "I do have to drive back to Baltimore tonight," she said, "so I'll be a little bit sober. But I'm always down to corrupt my favorite uptight, repressed sister before I go."

"Why do y'all insist on calling me uptight?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Because you are, babe," Bella and Tina said in unison again.

I sighed, smiling anyway. "Well, before I get corrupted, I gotta talk to Daddy. He gets back from his fishing trip today and... he should hear it from me. Not secondhand. Not from anybody else."

Tina's face softened. "You gonna be okay with that?"