And that’s what they were talking about at the—Bailey!” Clare snaps, waving her hand in front of my face.
“Sorry. Too many mimosas.” That’s a lie. I’m not even tipsy after two of them. I try to focus on what she was telling me. Something about renovations on her master bathroom. “You were saying something about how they couldn’t take a wall down?”
“Are you okay?” Tara asks me with genuine concern.
Do I admit to them that my head is all over the place after the ball? That I’m not sure where I belong in the pack? Because if my best friends don’t trust me after that, there’s no guarantee that my sisters will. Plus, their husbands don’t seem like big fans of the new king.
And it’s impossible to feel like my sisters’ mates aren’t an invisible presence at the table with us.
“I’m fine. I jus
