Page 159 of Perfect Satisfaction

I slap a hand over my mouthas we deplane. I couldn’t fall asleep after I heard the sound Sula tried to stifle.

Her tears.

Converse to what I thought I wanted when I started living with her, none of this is right. I find no satisfaction in seeing her haunted by the memories lurking in her eyes.

Sula has her phone up to her ear already as we approach customs. I stand in line while she heads to the far lane, scans her retina and passport, and reenters the United States.

I become agitated as the family of four in front of me declares every magnet they bought at Big Ben. When it’s my turn, I’m confounded when asked if my trip was for business or pleasure. “Um, both?”

The customs agent gives me a knowing smirk which causes me to snap, “I was with my wife.”

“Oh, hey. Sorry, buddy. Didn’t see a ring.”

His words feel like punches to my solar plexus.

How can I begrudge Sula for removing the symbol she chose for our marriage when I never once wore one for her?

I’m ripped from my stupidity when the agent shoves my passport back in my hands. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

I move through the tunnel and find Sula leaning up against the wall talking on her phone. “If you don’t mind? Okay. I’ll stop by in a few hours. See you soon.”

She slips her phone into her bag. The fluorescent light glints dully off her black nose ring. Though her eyes are lined with the same fatigue mine are gritted with, she manages a wan smile. “Come on. I have a car waiting.”

I barely manage to hold back yawning in her face before saying, “That was a nice gesture.”

She smiles thinly. “I’m charging it to Joshua.”

“Did you order a super stretch?” I’m only half kidding.

“I contemplated it, but then I realized they may not be able to make the turn to pick us up. He’s just going to have to deal with the ridiculous tip I plan on leaving.”

I bump her shoulder. “I like your style, Moore.”

Her cheeks pinken.

We walk outside and find the car quickly enough. The moment we’re seated inside, Sula has her laptop out and is typing furiously. A cuteVforms between her eyes before she whips out her cell. “Call JB.”

I grit my teeth to endure a call from hell when she shouts, “Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?”

“Now, love—” he says before Sula interrupts.

“Tell me, swear to me, this is a joke, JB. You are trying to get the woman you love back. She is going to see these. What makes you think your Liki will forgive you for this shit? Forget it. I’m done. A grown ass man should not need a babysitter.”

“It’s not as bad as you—”

She doesn’t wait for him to respond, just ends the call.

Without asking, I swivel her laptop around and scroll through the international news media coverage of Ng Ming’s bachelor party.

Strippers. Check.

Nudity. Check.

But none of that matters to Sula. It was the fact Basset could hurt Liki—my Liza—that has her pressing the heels of her hands to her eyeballs.

She knows Basset’s in love with someone else, and she doesn’t care.