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Malakai actually shudders, his eyes shadowed by a faraway haunted look. ‘Fur demons.’

I shake my head, and a surge in my chest pushes out a smile. This shouldn’t be happening. I reduce my smile drastically, and clear my throat, hoping it will push down the disturbing hot shock in my chest.

‘Anyway. We communicate when we have to. There isn’t much crossover between our duties until the day so it should be fine.’

‘I bet you have a whole folder dedicated to the wedding. Google docs. Shared drives. All specifically labelled. Maybe even colour coordinated.’

I blink. ‘How else would I do it? Like, genuinely asking.’

‘That’s my girl.’ Malakai’s eyes flicker before he clears his throat. ‘I mean—’

‘I know what you mean.’

‘That’s the girl who used to be my girl, but blew up our relationshipis a mouthful.’

My awkwardness calcifies into something brittle. ‘Oh yeah? Is this really what we’re gonna do right now, Malakai? Because if you want to go let’s go.’

Malakai’s face is irritatingly tight. ‘I was joking, Kiki.’

‘Yeah. You should have a stand-up special. Think Eddie Murphy’sDeliriousexcept it’s calledDelusionalbecause I wasn’t the one who walked out.’

I know I should drop it, know it isn’t worth it, that it’s better for us to float on either side of the abyss and not brawl till one or both of us falls, but I can’t help the indignation that licks at my tongue and makes it leap.

Malakai pauses and I see a thought darken his face before he releases a chuckle broken jaggedly in half, its edges sharp and serrated, scraping across my skin.

‘Nah. You were just the one who pushed me out.’

It smarts and I’m stricken. I’m careening back to the apocalypse. My skin is burning and the hurt sours into anger, because anger I can hold without it eroding my strength, anger I can control and lobby back to him. My voice is a thin hiss.

‘You know, Malakai, I have a lot of strength because I’ve done one and a half reformer Pilates classes–’ and almost died– ‘but evenIcan’t push out somebody who don’t already wanna leave—’

‘You have no idea what I want to do, Kiki.’ Malakai’s gaze flits across me and I supress an errant, insolent shudder that grates across the fact that I want to throw my drink in his face. ‘Then, or now,’ he continues, ‘because if you did you would know that I don’t have to be out here tryna make peace with someone I don’t really want to be around.’

I roll my eyes, ire pushing me closer to him, the silk of my dress brushing against his chest. I use the heat that rushes through me at the contact to power my words, harnessing renewable energy, a regular Greta Thirstberg.

‘Oh my God, spare me. Thank you so much for your philanthrophic efforts. I’m sure you’ll be awarded a Noble Peace Prize, Dumb-Dumb Tutu. It wasn’t by force to come talk to me so why are you here? I don’t control you.’

Our faces are inches apart, and Malakai’s eyes dance across my features, soft mouth set firmly, the severity warring the illicit play of his gaze. It makes me want to step back, because it makes me want to step closer.

His eyes return to rest firmly on mine, opaque, heavy. ‘You’re right. This was a mistake. I thought we could be civil.’

‘Nah, Malakai, youthoughtwe couldpretend,because that’s whatyoudo so well. Funny that you’re a director, because I reckon you would body it as an actor.’

‘Well done.’

‘I don’t need your praise.’

‘That’s not how I remember it.’

I inhale sharply, bringing in his scent, night-time drives and neck kisses, base notes of my moans, and my mind skips between fury and something that simmers hotter, that makes my skin prickle, that elicits a dark, primal beat between my legs; goosebumps raise like they’re dancing.

A spark zips across Malakai’s eyes and he clears his throat and takes a swig of his drink, as if catching himself. ‘Sorry. That was—’

My smile is arid. ‘I don’t need you to be sorry, Malakai. I need you to grow up. Look, tonight is about our best friends. And, if we do this correctly, the only time we’ll be around each other will be because of them. So let’s just never speak about us again, focus on what we need to focus on and stay in our respective lanes.’

The indentations in Malaki’s jaw undulate, and he steps back. ‘Sounds perfect.’

I release some breath I didn’t know I was holding. ‘Good.’