F*ck Marriage(54)

Last week while buying presents to send home to my parents, I spotted a dress hanging in the window of a boutique. It was out of my budget, my eyes bulging when I saw the price tag. Initially I’d handed it back to the salesgirl, but during the five steps it took to reach the door I changed my mind. It was Christmas, after all; I could splurge and buy myself something this one time. I marched back to where she was still standing, and taking it from her hands, I carried it to the register and pulled out my credit card before I could change my mind. Now I carefully clip off the tags before tugging it over my head. The dress is silver, the fabric so soft and slinky it runs through my fingers like water. When it drops around my body, it hugs all the right places. I borrow one of Jules’ coats and head out the door. Holiday traffic knots up every intersection, and by the time I’ve stopped at the bakery to pick up the cake, I’m already twenty minutes late to the party. When I finally walk through the doors everyone is already standing around with a drink in their hands. When they see me they cheer. I laugh, shaking the snow out of my hair, and slip out of the coat.



I’d been too busy to wonder if Satcher would bring a date to the party. And, of course, that date would be Jules. I smooth a smile across my face, beautifully empty, and walk toward them. I’m so good at this. When did I become so good at this?

“Billie!” Jules hugs me while Satcher looks on quietly.

As soon as Jules completes her hug, she’s back at Satcher’s side. She twines her arm through his and clutches his bicep, looking around the room.

The throbbing bleed of emotion comes, emptying into my chest, painfully constricting, then dropping like lead to my stomach.

“Hi, Satch,” I say quietly.

He’s angry with me. There’s no expression on his face when he looks at me, but his eyes flash. I can’t stand it, his anger.

I duck my head, shameful tears rising to fill my eyes. And then I feel a hand on my back. I know that hand, I lean into it from years of practice.

“Satch. Nice to see you, Jules.” Woods’ smooth voice dries up my eyes.

I’ve never been so glad to see him. How can a person who left you to drown also have the power to make you feel okay?

“Wish I could say the same,” Jules quips.

“It’s been three years, Julia,” Woods says. “Maybe we can play nice just for one night. Especially since Billie put the night together?”

Jules’ lips tighten, but she doesn’t argue.

“Where’s Pearl?” Satcher asks.

“She was feeling under the weather.”

“She seemed fine in the office this afternoon.”

I glance at Satcher. What’s he getting at? I’m frankly quite glad Pearl isn’t here to ruin the night. Let her stay at home sipping her organic tea and feeling superior.

“Well, you know how it goes. This time of year there’s always something sneaking up on you.” Woods smiles stiffly and I notice he already has a cocktail in hand.

“Hey, do you mind getting me one of those?” I ask.

He smiles genuinely for the first time and nods at Jules and Satcher before heading to the bar.

“I think I’ll get a drink too,” she announces. “Something about Woods’ face makes me want to drink…”

“I’ll get it for you,” Satcher says, touching her arm.

“No, I’m fine. This is your Christmas party, my love. You mingle.”

I recoil at the pet name. She leaves and then there’s just Satcher and me standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. My tongue feels caked with awkwardness, all elbows and knees.

“Didn’t your mama ever tell you that you should never let an old flame burn you twice?”

“You have more dick in your personality than your pants, you know that, Satch?”

“What do you think is gonna happen, Billie? Everyone gets hurt in this scenario.”

I glance at the bar. Jules and Woods are on opposite ends not looking at each other.

“What scenario, Satcher?” I say his name with the same amount of vinegar he used to say mine. “He’s getting me a drink.”

I feel like he’s judging me for something I haven’t even done. He shakes his head, disappointed. Before either of us can say another word, Woods returns with my drink. After he hands it to me he stands close, almost protectively. I wonder who he wants to protect me from and my eyes fall on Satcher. There is something happening between them even now, some silent exchange of eyes.

“Come on,” Woods says, steering me away. “This is your party, you should mingle.”

I allow him to lead me away from Satcher. Despite the hard dread rolling around in my stomach, the night is a smashing success. Everyone marvels about the restaurant’s ambience, and when the food arrives they ooh and ahh over the presentation. Woods never leaves my side, and it almost feels like it used to when we were together. I make a joke and he laughs, looking at me like I’m the funniest person alive. He makes a joke and I joke that it’s not funny at all, and then everyone else laughs. It’s a thing we’ve always done, and it works—we’re funny together. People always said we had this chemistry that you feel. I’d thought so too until the day he up and left me. During the dinner, when I look over at Jules, she’s glaring at him like she wants to rip his throat out. Satcher, on the other hand, won’t look at me at all. When I’m at the bar grabbing a drink and taking a second to breathe away from everyone, Loren comes up behind me. Resting her elbows on the bar, she grins at me.