Page 23 of F*ck Marriage

“So,” he says. “Want to skip this place and go get a drink?”

I glance at the elevators, unsure. I really need to talk to Satch. Make sure we’re okay.

“And be the girl you left me for? Not a chance.”

I’m so proud of myself I don’t even notice Satcher stepping off the elevator. Not right away at least. His eyes widen when he sees us both standing in his lobby, and reluctantly, he heads over, a frown marring his face.

“Satcher,” I say before he can speak. “I came to apologize. And ask if you’ll get a drink with me.”

Satcher raises an eyebrow and looks at Woods.

“I wanted to get a drink too,” he says.

“We came separately,” I explain, glancing at Woods out of the corner of my eye.

“I was actually just heading out.” Satcher glances at his watch.

“I’ll walk with you…” I offer.

Satcher looks annoyed. “It’s a date,” he says. “I have a date.”

“So you two aren’t a thing?” Woods motions between us.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Woods? That’s why you came here? To ask himthat?”My hands find their way to my hips.

“He’s my best friend. I have a right to know what his intentions are with you.”

“No. No, you don’t have a right.” My chest is heaving and tears are burning my eyes. I can’t believe that after everything he did, he feels like he has any right to my life. I look at Satcher, my gut rolling. “Can we get out of here? Please.”

He only hesitates for a second before nodding. And in that moment, I feel like he’s made a choice between his best friend and his best friend’s ex-wife.

He nods at Woods and I grab onto his arm, walking quickly to keep in stride. I don’t look back. If I look back I’ll turn back.

Chapter Eleven

He stops abruptly once we’re out of sight and I teeter forward on my heels. Satcher reaches out a hand to steady me. His fingers brush the underside of my breasts and I hear myself suck in my breath.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t put you in the middle of ... whatever this is.”

“Revenge,” he offers.

My bottom lip pushes out when I nod.

“Forget it,” Satcher says. His eyes scan the street; he’s already dismissed me. I feel awkward. Clearly Satcher doesn’t want to talk about it and I didn’t have a plan past apologizing. I’m about to fall back so that I’m not trailing behind him like a lost puppy when he throws me a bone.

“Though I don’t know how I feel about being a key player in my best friend’s demise.”

I bite my lip. “I didn’t mean to put you in that position … I was being selfish.” And then I ask, “Are you guys still ... close?”

He isn’t looking at me when he answers; his head is turned toward traffic. “Not really.”

“Why not? What happened?” My interest is genuine, but I can tell Satcher is annoyed.

“I really do have a date.”

“Of course, yeah. Do you need a cab?” I ask feebly.

He glances at his watch. “We can walk it.”

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