Page 19 of What Doesn't Kill Us

Matt shakes his head and squints at me. “No, you’re not. You’ve proven you pick up a lot of new tricks easily, but you have also proven that cooking is not one of them.”

I glare at him. Then silently accept he is correct and pick up the mushrooms and start cleaning and slicing them accordingly. It feels good to do something as mundane as cutting up some vegetables. Matt sets a drink in front of me, and I nod my thanks, happy to sit in silence for a few moments.

I don’t even mind the moisture that gathers in the corners of my eyes in response to him asking me if I’d like some music. I nod, afraid to speak for fear he’ll recognize I’m still a bit of an emotional fucking nutcase, but then I chuckle to myself because it’s not like he doesn’t already know that.

He puts on my favorite alt-rock playlist, and as the music lifts my spirits, I finally ask, “You’re making chicken marsala, right? Please tell me you’re making marsala.”

He laughs, nodding his head. “Of course, I’m making your favorite. You can even choose if we’re going to have pasta or potatoes.”

My eyes widen in excitement, and my mouth salivates. “I don’t know if I can decide. Why do I have to choose? I think I’ve earned all the carbs at this point.”

He nods and places a bag of potatoes and a package of fresh pasta on the counter as he says, “That’s exactly what I thought you’d say, so I came prepared. That also works nicely for my other plan for the evening, so prepare yourself to feast.”

I’m not about to argue about any plan that ends with me consuming a giant pile of carbohydrates, but I must ask. “What other plan is it you speak of?”

Matt stops what he’s doing and goes over to the fridge, opening the door and showing me the variety of alcoholic drinks he purchased for us. “We are going to get shit-faced and pretend we have no problems in the world.”

I laugh. I laugh, and I laugh, and that tiny vibration of joy that shoots up my spine immediately triggers the waterworks, but at least this time, they’re more happy tears than stabbing-agony tears. Regardless of what happens over the next few days, weeks, or months, at least I’m surrounded by a few people who give a fuck.

Tony’s voice breaks through our moment as he strides into the room. “What the fuck, Matt? What did you say to her? Why is she crying?”

I laugh even harder, almost choking on my laughter, as Tony walks over and punches Matt’s arm. Matt yelps, then punches him back as he explains, “She’s not crying-crying. She’s cry-laughing. There’s a big difference, you fucklicker.”

Tony frowns at him, seemingly unconvinced. He walks over to me, bending down in front of me and looking me straight in the face as he asks, “You okay, Nettie? Do I need to maim him?”

I shake my head, wiping the tears on my cheeks with the back of my hand as I attempt to get control of myself. I hiccup, which sets off another torrent of giggles, and now Matt and Tony are staring at me like I’m crazy. That thought makes me laugh even harder.

Lilith breaks through my laughing fit as she rushes into the room, the sounds of my broken laughing hiccups likely cueing her to a problem out here. She shoves Tony to the side, sending him sprawling, and takes his position bent over in front of me, looking me straight in the face. “Are you okay, Toni?”

Suddenly, Lilith disappears, Tony having knocked her feet out from under her, sending her crashing to the floor in a heap. He pounces on her, and they spend a few seconds grappling before Lilith takes control and puts him in a submission hold, using her legs around his upper body. “Tap out, asshole.”

Tony shakes his head, obviously enjoying this position more than he should be from the smile on his face. She growls, squeezing him more tightly, and his face reddens, but he doesn’t tap out. She looks up at me, and I shrug, my laughter finally abating as they distract me with their antics.

Lilith eases her grip on him, and Tony doesn’t waste any time flipping their positions, attempting to grapple for a submission hold of his own. They’re in a no-holds battle for domination, so I move to the other side of the kitchen island, continuing my dinner prep duties.

Matt shakes his head at them, bumping me with his elbow and giving me a questioning look when my eyes meet his. I shrug my shoulders, sending him a small smile, which he returns as he picks up my drink and hands it to me. He grabs his own drink, holding it up as he says, “What shall we cheers to first?”

I squint, cocking my head at him as I contemplate my options. Then I smile. “To giving no fucks.”

He smiles back at me. “Yes. To giving no fucks for the next twelve hours.”

“Hey, wait for us!” Tony and Lilith pop up beside us, completely disheveled and panting. Tony grabs two drinks from the fridge, opens them, and hands one to Lilith.

Tony raises a hand, interrupting our cheers. “And we’re sure that getting blitzed and giving no fucks for twelve hours will not bite us in the ass?”

Matt winces, glancing at Lilith as he says, “Yes. It’s fine.”

Lilith narrows her eyes at him. “What did you do, Matt?”

He sighs. “I may have made one itty bitty call to ensure we are indeed safe to let loose and give no fucks for a brief amount of time.”

Which means he notified Dare.

Lilith pokes him in the chest, then shoves the same finger into his face, and he leans away from her slightly as she says, “You’re on thin ice. But I’ll let it slide…this time.”

Tony laughs. “Yeah, because she wants to get fucked up, too.”

Lilith rolls her eyes, but doesn’t disagree. None of us are big drinkers, but this seems like a good time to forget about the shitstorm we’ve been living for the last few months and attempt to have a good time. Even if we’ll likely regret it in the morning.

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