I didn’t care anymore. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
But the truth was I did care. I cared because I’d let it go on for too long. I’d allowed them to twist the truth into a knot so tangled no one else could see where it began.
And I was done playing the bigger person.
I wasn’t going to yell. I wasn’t going to beg. I wasn’t even going to block them again.
I was going to outsmart them.
And that began with one question.
What was Candace planning?
I didn’t have to wonder for long.
One week after Aaron’s cryptic warning, I got a formal letter in the mail. Actual paper, cream colored envelope, no return address. Inside was a printed invitation.
“You are cordially invited to Lacy Monae Davis’s Redbutant celebration. A night of apologies and new beginnings.”
The name alone made me choke on my coffee.
Redant.
What was this? A Regency era redemption arc?
I kept reading. The invitation was dripping in fake forgiveness. Something about family unity, something about new traditions.
And then there it was, a thinly veiled line that read, “To those who made mistakes, this is your opportunity to make things right in public, in person, and with grace.”
In other words, I was being summoned. Not invited, not welcomed, summoned.
Candace wasn’t planning a party. She was staging a public apology tour with me as the opening act. She wanted me to show up, bow my head, and apologize for humiliating her daughter. She wanted witnesses. She wanted to forgive me in front of a room full of friends, neighbors, and people who didn’t know the truth.
And most of all, she wanted control back.
But here’s the thing about people like Candace. They’re so used to orchestrating drama that they forget other people can play chess, too.
She didn’t know it yet, but she just handed me the board.
I called Aaron.
“She invited me, too,” he said before I could even get the words out. “Said it would mean a lot to the family if I came, which is hilarious considering she hasn’t called me since Lacy was born, unless she needed a babysitter or alone.”
“Are you going?”
He hesitated.
“I was planning not to, but now I don’t know. If you go, I go.”
That gave me an idea.
“Actually,” I said slowly, “I think we should go.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah, but not as guests.”
“Logan, no.”
“Hear me out. She wants to put on a show. Fine, let’s give her one.”