Page 86 of F*ck Marriage

She nods slowly.

“Okay…” I crack my knuckles, surveying the kitchen.

Billie’s tongue is locked in her promise to Jules. I’ll have to guess if I want to find out.

“I need to know where to start,” I say.

She turns her head to look at the counter and I follow her eyes. The present Jules wrapped and left at my house sits next to the knife block. It wasn’t there before so I assume Billie put it where I could see it.

“Do you want me to open it?”

She shrugs casually, though her eyes are wild.

“Billie…?”

She shrugs again, her eyes blinking slowly like she’s trying to convey the importance of Jules’ gift.

“Okay. All right. I’m going to open it. It’s my fault, not yours…”

I retrieve the package, hoping its placement by the knife block isn’t an omen, and turn it over in my hand. Billie stares at it like she’s afraid.

“You’re freaking me out, Billie.”

“I’m freaking out,” she says. “Bad.”

I stare from her to the package in my hand in confusion.

“Give me a clue,” I say.

Without a word, she stands up and walks into the kitchen. I watch as she gets two shot glasses from the cabinet and then retrieves a bottle of tequila from my bar.

“That’s sipping tequila,” I tell her. “Very expensive.”

“Good, then it’ll go down smooth and work fast.”

I don’t argue as she pours us each a shot and slides mine across the counter. I pick it up, never removing my eyes from her face.

“What would Jules give you that she’d want you both to open together?”

“I have no clue.”

She bites her lip and holds up her shot glass, motioning for me to do the same. Our heads tilt back at the same time.

“If you were a happy couple who planned on being together for the rest of your lives…” Her voice breaks.

I watch as she chews on the inside of her cheek, clearly at odds with her loyalty. Her eyebrows are arched over her eyes and she seems to be urging me toward the answer by raising them higher.

I suddenly feel cold all over. “Billie ... no ... are you…? Is she…?”

She doesn’t answer me. My hands shake as I unwrap the box, the tequila curdling in my stomach like sour milk. Underneath the cheerful wrapping of bows and candy canes is a simple white cardboard box. I lift the lid, my hands shaking.

“Fuck.” I drop everything on the counter.

“I’m assuming you know what that is,” Billie says dryly.

I rub a hand across my face. “You’ve known about this and you didn’t say anything? Goddammit, Billie.”

“She asked me not to.”

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