Ainsley slaps Quinn’s arm, though not hard because she’s the nice one. "We said we weren't going to ask."

“She brought it up!” Quinn points to me, and I know we’re talking about my marriage, but I have a flashback to the old days of Quinn trying to pin something on me that she actually did.

“Still. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Quinn looks back to me. “Maeve, it’ll just be easier if you tell us. Get it out in the open. Take that weight off your shoulders.”

Maybe it’s time. I mean, by this point, I think telling them might help things. If I keep lying they’ll come up with crazier scenarios. Or make more money off me.

Then again, my mother’s here, and I’m not sure Demetria Banks is going to appreciate certain aspects of this story.

Like she knew I was thinking about her, she weighs in. "I'm just here, not saying a word, just listening to my daughters talk. What I hear or not hear, I will take in and process the information however you would like me to."

I look back to the living room, where the men are gathered, completely unconcerned about what we’re doing. My father is napping in his recliner—you know, because he's had such a hard day holding the garbage bag for the wrapping paper to go into.

“Fine. I’m only telling this story one time, so everyone better buckle in.”

“We need wine,” Stella says.

"And snacks," Ainsley adds.

"Wait for me!” That comes from my soon-to-be sister-in-law, Charlie. “I amnotmissing out on this story.”

Minutes later, all of the women are huddled around the dining table, drinks and snacks in hand, like I’m about to tell them the best story they’ve ever heard.

"Spill," Quinn says. "And don't leave a thing out."

Even though my sisters know how Logan and I met, to make sure everyone is up to speed, I start at the beginning—though it’s an abbreviated version. Charlie has probably heard it already, between Simon and seeing my sister Stella every day. And my mom, well, she doesn't need to hear about my one-night slutty escapades.

What I do focus on is the situation with Josh, and repeat, or fill in gaps, of everything he’s done and asked for over the past month. His sudden marriage. Him asking for primary custody. Being unwilling to even talk out of court about going fifty-fifty, or extending his time if he really thinks I’m a horrible mother.

“I still don’t get it,” Quinn says. “Nothing about that seems like something he’d do.”

“I know,” I say. “But he’s not budging.”

“Would the courts really give him primary custody?” Ainsley asks. “You’re Jayce’s mother!”

My shoulders slump at the question. “I’m not sure. I don’t think they would, but could I take that chance? I couldn’t, so I did what I had to do. And luckily, Logan needed some help from me as well.”

A second of silence is interrupted by a loud gasp and Stella pointing at me. "Oh my God, you're a PR wife and he’s helping you keep custody!”

“Bingo,” I say. “I’m taking it that was your guess?”

She does a little shimmy in her seat as everyone around the table, including my mother, groans. “We’re going to put these winnings to some new boots I was eyeing the other day.”

“Fuck your boots. Back to the story,” Quinn says.

“Quinn Elizabeth! Language!”

“Sorry, Mom.”

She might be in her thirties. She might live in another time zone. But my mother will never not scold Quinn and her perpetual potty mouth.

“In basic terms, yes, I was a PR move for Logan. And he was a husband in a pinch for me. Your classic marriage of convenience.”

Without telling too much about why Logan needed me, as it’s not my story to tell, I fill in my family with the rest of the details—most importantly, that Josh is still fighting me for custody, even though now I’ve evened the playing field in terms of a traditional family, and that our court date is set for February.

“I can’t believe my sister is in the category of relationships for Logan Matthews as Candace Kross and Sabrina Rome,” Stella says. “This is a big day for me.”