“Before you all get comfortable,” I said, sliding my coat over the empty chair but not sitting, “let me add the part Blake left out of his little speech.” The table went still. Blake lowered himself back into the booth slowly, the whiskey confidence draining out of him. “Blake’s business,” I said, “the one he loves telling all of you is thriving, has been underwater for fourteen months. I know because I’m the one who has been keeping it afloat. I co-signed the operating line of credit. I put ninety thousand dollars of my own savings into covering his payroll last spring so his employees wouldn’t walk. And I’m the one whose name is on the lease for the condo he calls his.”

A couple of our friends set down their drinks. Blake’s face had gone from smug to gray. “Nadia, this is not the place,” he said, the exact tone he used whenever facts became inconvenient. “You didn’t think it was the wrong place to call me pathetic thirty seconds ago,” I said. “So let’s finish the picture. The wedding you all RSVP’d to? I paid every deposit. The venue, the catering, the band. Blake hasn’t contributed a dollar, because he doesn’t have one that isn’t borrowed against something I signed for.” I picked the ring back up off the table, and this time I put it in my purse instead of his hand. “That’s not a breakup. That’s me withdrawing a loan.”