The first text was normal.

BreeCongratulations!!!!

The second was sweet.

BreeProud of you, friend ❤️

The third one just said:

BreeSoooooo…

I immediately groaned.

Jade looked over my shoulder and started laughing.

“What?” I asked.

She pointed at the phone. “Nothing good has ever followed a text that starts with so.”

And the worst part was, she was right.

Bree could turn any life event into matchmaking if you gave her enough time. Birthdays. Breakups. Baby showers. Funerals. If she could have found me a husband during open-heart surgery, she would have at least considered it.

The phone buzzed again.

BreeCan I send you a picture?

I stared at the message. Then typed:

PhoenixNo.

Almost immediately, she responded.

BreeYou didn’t even ask what it is.

PhoenixI know what it is.

BreeYou don’t know what it is.

PhoenixIt’s a man.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Okay yes it’s a man.

I closed my eyes.

Across the room, my mother was helping somebody organize funeral logistics. My son was trying to climb furniture. My grandfather was gone. My court battle had finally moved in my favor.

And somehow, despite all of that, Bree had found a way to make today about my nonexistent love life.

The commitment was honestly impressive.

PhoenixI don’t want a man.

BreeThis one is different.

PhoenixThat’s what y’all always say before the documentary comes out.

Jade nearly choked laughing.

“Tell her I said leave you alone.”

I typed it. Bree ignored it. Naturally.

BreeFriend, listen.

I already did not trust the direction this was heading.

BreeHe got his own place.

PhoenixNo.

BreeHe takes care of his kids.

PhoenixStill no.

BreeGood job.

PhoenixNo.

BreeFine as hell.

I paused. Just for a second. Then typed:

PhoenixEverybody fine.

BreeNot like this.

I hated when people typed with confidence.

Bree typed with confidence. The kind of confidence usually reserved for cult leaders and people who sell timeshares.

BreeFriend.

PhoenixWhat?

BreeHe got knees.

I stared at the screen.

Jade leaned closer. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.”

Another message arrived.

BreeHe has a good job and a pension!

Then another.

BreeAnd from what I heard…

I already knew this woman had lost her mind.

PhoenixBree…

BreeToo late.

BreeHe’ll eat you like an ice cream cone.

“JESUS CHRIST.”

The words came out loud enough that three relatives looked over.

Jade doubled over laughing.

I was laughing too hard to defend myself, because this was exactly who Bree was. Not a single survival instinct. Not one. Just vibes, weed, romance, and chaos.

I typed:

PhoenixYou are absolutely going to hell.

BreeProbably. But not before I send this picture.

Before I could stop her, my phone buzzed.

Photo received.

I sighed deeply. The sigh of a woman who had survived divorce, infidelity, custody court, relocation, and heartbreak, only to be taken out by a persistent best friend.

Then I opened the picture.

And immediately sat up straighter.

Well.

That was unfortunate.

Because Bree had finally found a man worth arguing about.

And for the first time all day, I found myself staring at my phone for an entirely different reason.