F*ck Marriage(19)

“Billie, Billie!” she exclaims. “I didn’t know you were back in the city … my God, did you know, Woods?” She turns accusingly toward her son who looks like he’s swallowed a goldfish.

I beam at Denise, noting how her eyes are more crinkled at the corners.

“I’ve only been back a few weeks,” I say. “I haven’t really had time to contact anyone.”

“Of course,” she says. “Well, you were missed, my dear girl.” She holds me firmly by my upper arms, looking at my face like she’s trying to see the last two years of hurt. I stare into her grey eyes, my emotions trembling under the surface. I’d loved Woods’ family, it had been easy to love them. From the moment we met, his mother treated me like I was the daughter she’d waited for her whole life. It had been the biggest rush of my life since her son treated me like the woman he’d waited for his whole life.

Denise looks over my shoulder and gets an eye full of Satcher. Her expression goes from surprise to realization. She releases me, her eyes pinned on my face, the sound of his name jarring everyone at the table to look away from us and at my dinner date. With everyone distracted, I’m able to get a look at their expressions. I scan the table, my eyes roving over six faces, trying to take everything in. Woods is staring at Satcher, a shocked expression on his face, while Pearl looks like she wants to throw up.

I’m jarred from my thoughts by Denise, who once again is saying my name.

“Why don’t you two join us?”

I’m already shaking my head even as she says it. To my enjoyment, Pearl’s face is frozen in mortification. I hear myself saying, “Thank you, but Satcher and I have some things we need to go over for Rhubarb.”

Denise looks disappointed. “Lunch then. Next week.”

“I’d love to.” I smile.

We leave in a flurry of goodbyes. Satcher places his hand on the small of my back as he steers me away from the table. I feel their eyes hot on my back. Small victories, I think.



“Well, that was ... awkward,” Satcher says, sipping his drink a few minutes later.

“You think?” I’m still riding the high of Pearl’s expression.

“Your ex-husband’s mother asked you to lunch.”

I take a sip of my lemon drop. “I’m aware.”

He looks incredulous. “How far are you going to take this revenge thing, Billie?”

“Wendy,” I correct him. “And it’s not revenge to have lunch with your ex-mother-in-law. We were a part of each other’s lives for years.”

“You could have called her if you wanted to see her.”

“Okay, fine,” I hiss. “I wanted to fucking hurt Pearl. Are you happy?”

Satcher’s head jerks back. “The real question is: are you?”

I down the rest of my drink and stare at him.

“Fuck you, Satcher. You have no idea what I went through.”

“Don’t I?”

We’re interrupted by our server who comes to take our order. As he scribbles things down on his pad, I consider my options. I could just ask Satcher what he means. Or I could ignore the comment. He’s probably just goading me anyway. My curiosity wins out.

“How do you know?”

It’s the first time I’ve seen his dimples tonight. “What—you think you’re the only one who's had a broken heart?”

I should have known. A man as unattainable as Satcher Gamble must have been hurt somewhere along the way. Hit in a way that left him raw enough to never have a serious relationship again.

“I’m the only one who has had my kind of broken heart.”

“Fair enough,” Satcher says. “My kind was named Gretchen.”

“Oh God,” I say. “That name didn’t give you a hint?”

“At least she stuck with the name she was given…”

We’re both still laughing when our second drink arrives. I happen to look over at that moment and see Woods watching me from across the restaurant. I give him a weak smile before turning back to Satcher. I miss Woods. I miss him so much.



After dinner, I excuse myself to use the bathroom. I’m washing my hands in a bowl sink with flowers trapped in the plexiglass when Pearl empties from a stall behind me. She falters when she catches sight of me and then proceeds to the sink next to mine like a woman approaching a snake. I eye her in the mirror expecting her to say something, but she simply finishes washing her hands, shakes them over the sink, and leaves the bathroom without a word. It throws me off, her lack of reaction. I was prepared for something sharper than cold indifference. I finish up in the bathroom, drying my hands. When I walk out of the door, I almost collide with Woods.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey yourself…” There’s an awkward pause before Woods says—“So you guys just talking about business or is there something more?”

“Excuse me?”

He bounces on his heels, hands in his pockets.

“Just give it to me straight, Billie.”

“Like you gave it to me straight when you started fucking Pearl?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did.”

He drops his gaze, the muscles in his jaw working. He takes a step closer to me so someone can pass behind him. We’re at lover’s distance, our air mingling. I look at his lips and he looks at mine. When we used to kiss I’d feel drunk. He was just that good. His voice is low when he says, “I know you, Billie. It feels like you’ve come back to make trouble.”