F*ck Marriage(60)

“They’re checking her vitals. The doctor is supposed to be here in a minute. And she left for the airport an hour ago. I texted her.”

He texted her. Like he’s still her husband. I’m being irrational. I try to shrug it off, wishing for the dozenth time that I hadn’t had that last drink. I’m not an angry drunk exactly, but I’m irritable ... less tolerant. In college, Billie told me that I’m too controlled in my normal life, and when I drink I lose some of that. I want to fucking lose it on Woods.

The doctor nods at us on his way into Billie’s room. He looks like a mad scientist: wiry, white hair poking up at odd angles, and a droopy face that looks like it’s melting off his skull. We stand in the hall, tense and impatient. Woods glances down at his phone every few minutes. I want to ask him if Billie’s mother is coming back, but I know I’ll only be disappointed by his answer. Finally, the room clears out and we’re allowed to see her. The doctor steps into the hall.

“Mr. Tarrow?” He looks at me.

“I’m Woods Tarrow.” Woods steps toward the doctor with an air of importance.

“Billie’s husband?” he asks.

Woods’ face colors. “No ... I’m her ex-husband…”

The doctor frowns. “I’m afraid I can only release information to her husband.”

“That’s me,” I say.

“She married brothers?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer; instead, he launches into Billie’s diagnosis. Concussion, sprained wrist, broken ankle, three cracked ribs, and severe bruising to her face. “She’s going to need to take it easy. No stairs. We’re going to keep her for another day to monitor her concussion.”

“Thank you,” I say when he finishes his spiel. “Can I see her?”

“You can,” he says, eyeing Jules and Woods. “One at a time.”

I nod. I ignore the stares Jules and Woods give me and push through the door. Billie is sitting up, but her eyes are closed. When she hears the door, she cracks open an eye.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hi.” Her voice is raspy. She licks her lips as I approach the bed. “They think you’re my husband,” she says.

“Yeah,” I say, ducking my head. “I may have told them that.”

She starts to laugh then immediately flinches. “Ow…”

“Lucky for you I’m not really that funny, so that was a one-time thing.” I pull the chair up next to her and sit on the edge of it, leaning toward her.

“I can’t believe I married a guy with such a sucky sense of humor.”

I can’t hide my smile. Here she is lying in a hospital bed cracked and bruised and she’s making jokes.

“We were really worried about you,” I say. “Took you a while to wake up.”

“It takes me a while to do everything,” she says. “I’m a slow learner.”

“Apparently. Anyone ever teach you how to cross a street?”

Her chest heaves. “Stop being funny,” she says. “It hurts.”

“Your mom was here,” I say. “She left to go home before she knew you woke up.”

“Ah,” is all she says.

“Listen, Billie, before they come in here I need to say sorry…”

“For what?”

“Well, I don’t like your mom. But also for the argument we had. I was out of line.”

This time she holds her ribs while she laughs. “It’s fine, Satch. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking. You were right to be pissed.”

“No. It’s none of my business.”

“Okay,” she breathes, “so let's just forget about it. Fighting isn’t good for our marriage.”

“Speaking of marriage,” I say. “Woods is outside.”

The smile drops off her face. “Oh…”

I perk up immediately. “Do you not want to see him? I can tell him to—”

“No, it’s fine, Satcher,” she says. “I suppose I need to put an end to all of this.”

“Jules is here too.”

“Okay. Maybe send Jules in first. Buy me some time so I can figure out what I’m going to say to Woods.”

“I have a notebook. I can write something out for you.”

“Shut up,” she says, a grin on her face. And even with the black eyes, and the yellow bruises grazing her cheekbones and jaw—she’s alarmingly beautiful.

I’m on my way toward the door when the words burn a path from my heart to my mouth. “Billie…”

She looks up from her lap, the smile still on her lips.

“I was scared. Scared I’d lose you forever. I don’t know that I’ve ever been truly scared before this.”

I can’t tell if her eyes fill with tears or if it’s a trick of the light.

“You’re a good friend, Satcher,” she says.

I force a smile. I don’t want to be her friend.



The next day is the first day I feel like I can finally breathe in weeks. Jules leaves early for the airport. I see her off outside of my building, still wearing my pajama pants as I tuck her into a cab. She texts me from the airport to say she spotted Woods and Pearl heading to their gate.