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“No, I’m going to try and sleep it off though.” I poured the green liquid down my throat and, cupping my tea, plodded back into the bedroom.

As I lay my head on the pillow and waited for the elixir to kick in, I was alone with my thoughts again. Only now, they went in a different direction. I’d betrayed Bill. By giving in to my impulses and by not stopping the kiss. Why hadn’t I? And why had David pulled away?

Glancing around the cozy cabin at Bill’s things and the mussed up sheets from where he had just been, I desperately hoped I wouldn’t see David again. Things felt dangerously easy with him, and I’d proven myself as weak as any of his girls.

But I had the memory, and it was unshakable. I began to drift amongst thoughts of arms and fingers, lips and eyes, skin, tuxedos, cufflinks . . . .

~

I threw my hair back and dabbed a bit of make-up on my sallow skin. Unrelenting shadows circled my eyes, and I gave up trying to cover them. I wandered out into the living room, feeling relaxed and a bit wobbly. I’d slept a good six hours, but the effects of the Nyquil remained.

“Hi.” Lucy looked up from her book.

“Hey,” I said, putting a pot of water on the stove.

“How do you feel?”

“Been better. But the drugs help. Want some tea?”

“Sure.”

The hot mug was as comforting against my cold hands as the peppermint was soothing. “What’d I miss?”

“Well, they’d caught a couple last time I spoke to Andrew. Salmon I think? Whatever. I just talked to Gretchen, too. She’s hungover and still in bed watching a Friends marathon,” Lucy said with an eye roll.

“Ha. What did she do last night?”

“Went to some big museum party. For work, I think.”

My ears perked up. “Oh? Where?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “She said Kristen Chenoweth and Derrick Rose were there, and that she has juicy gossip, but wants to tell us in person. Someone she met and hooked up with – oh, it was the Museum of Contemporary Art. Yes, that was it.”

I forced a sound of comprehension, but inside I saw red. What are the chances? I asked myself. There must’ve been hundreds of people there. Did Gretchen and David . . . ? Would he do that to send a message? Or worse, would he do that because he just didn’t care anymore?

I gritted my teeth. I thought again about what perfect a couple they’d make – his masculine roguishness and her small, petite frame drowning in blonde curls. They seemed to end up at all the same events. My stomach lurched as the image of them, side-by-side, popped into my head.

Lucy didn’t seem to notice as the blood drained from my face. “Anyway. Have you read this?” she asked, holding up her book.

“No, uh, how is it?” I had read it, but I was grateful for the chance to reel. I knew by my reaction that I was in too deep. I reminded myself that my anger was unwarranted and there was nothing I could do to stop what was surely going on. Gretchen had made no secret of her interest in David, and she almost always got what she wanted.

~

“Rummy,” Andrew said, placing his last set on the dining table. We all groaned and threw down our cards.

“I’m done,” Bill said, leaning back in his chair. “That’s three times in a row, let’s play something else. Something Andrew sucks at.”

“How about Texas hold ‘em?” I suggested.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Andrew asked, narrowing his eyes at me but smiling playfully.

“Yeah, good idea. Go get ‘em babe,” Bill said, tugging on my sweatshirt. “I think I have a poker set in the car, actually.”

“You do?” Andrew asked, his eyebrows knitting.

“Oh, I think you’re right honey. Should I get it?” I teased, and Andrew’s face fell.

“Veto. Andrew was cranky for a week after the last game,” Lucy said.

“Don’t like losing to a girl, huh?” I asked, shuffling the deck.

“I don’t like losing a hundred bucks, period. Two hundred if you count Lucy.”

“Oh, but I used it to buy the most beautiful leather jacket,” I said wistfully. Bill chuckled and leaned over, planting a kiss on my cheek. In my chair, I tilted toward him, snuggling in the crook of his arm.

“Does anyone want more salmon before I put it away?” Lucy asked. “It shouldn’t sit out any longer.”

“I’m full,” Bill said. “We got lucky with that seven pound Coho, man. The guys next to us said they usually cap around five or six pounds.”

“Yeah? Well let’s hope we can pull it off again tomorrow.”

“If you do, throw it back. We have plenty,” I said, pushing away from the table.

“I’ll throw you back,” Bill kidded as I headed for the bedroom.

I grabbed my phone, shut off the alarm and rummaged through my suitcase for birth control. When I didn’t find it there or in my purse, I started to panic and pulled out the two neat clothing piles from my luggage, inserting my hand in all the pockets. I unzipped Bill’s duffel bag in a hurry and dumped his stuff on top of mine. Squatting on the floor, I rubbed my temples, trying to remember the last place I saw it. Kitchen counter. But I remembered checking the kitchen counter before I left the apartment, and it definitely hadn’t been there.

“Bill,” I called into the cabin. When he didn’t respond, I yelled for him.

“Coming,” he responded. I crossed my arms, trying to think. What the fuck? Did he hide them so I’d forget? Does he think I’d give in that easily? Would he do that? I tried to think of what I’d do if he had. I’d have to recalibrate my whole month. And I’d be pissed. Would he take it that far?

This time I used my angry voice when I called his name and he came quickly.

“Yeah?” he asked, scanning the mess on the floor.

“Where’s my birth control?” I heard my foot tapping against the floor but couldn’t stop it.

“What?”

“My birth control. Where is it? Did you do something with it?”

“What would I do with it?” he asked, raising his chin and looking down at me over his nose.

“I don’t know but it’s not in my bag, and it wasn’t where I left it on the kitchen counter. Did you take it? Did you hide it?”

“Hide it?” he boomed. “Do you think I’m some sort of monster? Shit, Olivia, when did you get so fucking paranoid?”

“Well, where is it then?” I began to shrink back, recognizing the look in his eyes. I rushed over and shut the heavy wooden door, steeling my shoulder against it.

He snatched my purse from the floor and rifled through it. “Here,” he said, pulling the packet out and throwing it on the floor. “There’s your bullshit birth control. I put it in the zipper pocket so you wouldn’t forget it.”

“Oh, I - ”

“Along with a shitload of condoms, because I never know with you,” he said, pulling out a string of foil packets and dropping them at his feet. “Don’t worry, we won’t be needing them tonigh

t,” he added.

“All right,” I said. “I’m sorry, don’t get mad.”

“Really Liv?” he said over me. “Why are you even starting birth control now? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Bill, keep your voice down, they’ll hear us,” I said, twisting my earlobe.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“I just don’t want to take any chances until - ”

“Until you’re ready, I know,” he said with disgust. “Until everything is ‘perfect.’ How could you think I would do that?” He paused and his face lit up as something occurred to him. “You’re acting like your mother.”

I felt the breath being sucked out of me. “You’re absolutely right,” I said, pinching my ear until I winced. “I’m so sorry. I thought - ”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“I thought wr – look, don’t patronize me, Bill. Let’s just forget it, I don’t want to make a scene.” I pulled the door open to leave, and he lunged forward to slam it shut.

“No, you don’t get to leave the conversation. I’m leaving to enjoy my weekend, and you can stay here and clean up this shit.” I had only a second to jump out of the way before he flung the door open again. I looked after him, feeling awful, and crouched to pick up the mess.

CHAPTER 16

THE NEXT WEEK WAS EMOTIONAL TURMOIL. Bill’s anger subsided, but my guilt persisted. Gretchen and David took up a permanent place in my thoughts. Elaborate fantasies and imaginative scenarios filled my head, some fueled by jealousy, others by lustful memories. I was aroused, angry and crushed all at once. David’s rejection overwhelmed me. I knew it was irrational, I knew it wasn’t fair.

At night, I tossed and turned with memories of my mother’s senseless fits of jealousy. Was I turning into her like Bill had cruelly accused? I was never jealous with Bill, but when it came to David, it was slippery and out of my control. My sleep had suffered more than usual from the anxiety. I hadn’t heard from David in almost a week, and I wondered if my Nyquil-drunken plea for relief had come true. Only, relief was far from what I felt.

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