F*ck Marriage(47)

“It’s nothing,” I say.

Jules frowns. “It’s not Woods that you’re seeing, is it?”

My heart is rapid-fire behind my ribs. “Can we not do this?” I say through my teeth.

Satcher is walking toward us. Saved by the drinks. He puts a glass in front of me a little harder than normal. Some of the liquid sloshes over the side and onto the counter. I pretend not to notice.

It’s a lemon drop.

“What’s that?” Jules asks. Her nose is scrunched up, eyebrows cocked in confusion.

Satcher and I exchange a glance. The warmth in his eyes makes me uncomfortable.

“It’s Billie’s token drink,” he says.

Jules shakes off the last of the water from her hands and picks up her glass, his simple explanation accepted.

“To Billie and her new beginning…” She lifts her glass.

It’s a good lemon drop. I wonder where he learned how to make them and if he learned for me. Of course he didn’t, I think. Silly girl. When dinner is ready, Jules seats us around her little dinette to eat. I force a few bites between my lips, staring only at my plate. Satcher stands up at some point and returns with fresh lemon drops. I see him frown every time he takes a sip and I can’t decide if it’s because he likes it or hates it. Jules talks enough for all three of us, babbling on, oblivious to the weird tension. She calls Satcher “babe” and touches his arm whenever she speaks to him. I watch her elegant fingers knead his arm, his neck; her skin is shockingly white against his. I feel detached from my body like I’m being forced to watch everything happen from above. I can see myself floating up near the ceiling staring down at the teal rug beneath the table, the walnut bookcases that she’s color-coded rather than alphabetized. There’s no way to tell what Satcher is thinking—feeling. I wonder if he’s in his body or floating somewhere else too.

After dinner, I insist they sit while I clear the dishes. I need space between us even if it’s only the twenty feet to the kitchen. When I look up from the dishwasher, Satcher’s chair is scooted sideways and Jules is sitting on his lap.

I finish up as quickly as I can and make a dash for my room. I crawl into bed pulling the covers over my head. Instead of going to sleep—which is probably what I need to do—I text Woods.

What are you doing?

His reply comes back two minutes later accompanied by a picture.

At a bar. They say hi.

I study the picture. Woods is in the forefront, his arm extended to hold the phone. Behind him are Desi and Xavier, two of our friends from college. Their eyes glow red like bar demons. I look longingly at their drinks, sweating on the bar in front of them, and it’s like Woods reads my mind.

Come down. The guys want to see you.

He texts over the address immediately and I stare at it long and hard. Bad idea?

A burst of laughter leaks underneath my door. I hear Satcher say something and then Jules’ response. I stuff my head underneath my pillow trying to block out the sound of their happiness, and then just as quickly I roll onto my back, phone held above my face.

Okay. I text back. Be there in ten.



The bar is typical: poorly lit, dark wood, a couple of TVs. The guys are lined up with beers in front of them, slouch-shouldered, staring at the screen. Desi spots me first.

“Well, well, well, the prodigal daughter has returned.” He gets off his barstool to hug me. Xavier, who’s never had much to say, gives me a fist bump. I glance at Woods, who is eyeing me up and down, a buzzed smile on his face.

“Hey,” he says. He hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me in, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“You’re drunk.” I laugh, pulling away.

“Not yet.” He turns back to the bartender. “Lemon drop for the lady.”

The bartender makes eye contact with me and I shake my head. No more lemon drops tonight.

“I’ll have a beer,” I say.

He nods and moves away to get my drink. I bullshit with the guys for a few minutes. Desi pulls out his phone and shows me photos of his new baby. His wife and I were friends once upon a time. Woods got custody of the friendship when I left. When the game comes back on, I move down the bar and slide into the seat next to Woods. He nudges my knee with his leg.

“So,” he says.

“So...” I say.

“I heard Satcher and Jules hooked up. What happened between the two of you?” He empties his glass and glances up at the TV to clock the score. He’s enjoying this, I realize.

“What’s it to you?” My beer arrives and I take a sip.

“Oh, you know ... my ex hooks up with my best friend and I’m interested to know what happened…”

“It doesn’t seem like you two are best friends anymore,” I say. “Want to tell me what happened with that?”

Woods bristles. Two spots down, Desi slams his fist down on the bar, his eyes glued to the screen above him.

“He didn’t like what happened with Pearl. We got into it the day after you left town.”

“Into it? Into it, how?”

No one had bothered to mention this to me, including Satcher. I’d even asked him about the tension and he’d brushed off my comments like it was all in my head.

“We fought…”

“Physically?”