Page 96 of F*ck Marriage

“We need to talk,” he says.

My stomach drops. The very words he said to me the night he told me about Pearl.

“We’ve already done that. We’re supposed to be moving forward with our lives.”

“Five minutes,” he says.

There’s something on his face that makes me step aside and let him in. He wanders into Satcher’s place and looks around like he’s seeing it for the first time. His eyes sweep the room, lingering on my nightgown, which is tossed across the back of a barstool.

“Where do you sleep?” he asks.

“In the bed.”

I pretend not to notice the look on his face. He clears his throat and then reaches up to take off his glasses.

“I ended things with Pearl.” Woods rubs his eyes.

I stare at him, frozen in disbelief. “What?”

One stubby little sentence and my insides are churning. I drift toward the window, my fist clutching the neck of my shirt, and stare out at the passing traffic.

I feel like I need time to process, but Woods is waiting for me to say something.

“Why?”

He takes a step toward me. “After our conversation—”

I hold his gaze waiting for him to finish.

“After our conversation, I did a lot of thinking ... about myself ... you.”

Thinking? Now you’re thinking? Years too late.

“Okay…”

I picture him skulking around Pearl and her parents on Christmas day, merely picking at his food. It’s a sad thing to imagine until you include the fact that he was thinking about me, maybe even wanting to be with me rather than his soon-to-be family. This news is still settling over me when Woods says his next words. I brace myself because the look in his eyes tells me something is coming.

“I’m still in love with you, Billie.”

His words hit me like cold water over the head. My shoulders jar with the impact of them.

“Don’t freak out on me, okay, Billie?”

He’s watching my face carefully, looking for approval. He’s still scared of me, I realize. His jaw used to lock up like that when he was afraid of my reaction. I let nothing show, and it’s not like I really have to try not to—my body has seized up in anticipation.

“Okay,” Woods says. “This is…” He rubs a hand along his face, his mouth dropping open when his fingers reach his chin. “I tried to replace you with a woman who wouldn’t question me, challenge me, fight with me. Because it made me feel,” he looks away while he searches for the word and then comes back with, “—bigger.”

Everything feels cold: my hands, my face, my heart. I don’t say anything because I don’t trust myself to speak.

“I was just looking for an easier version of you. But that’s not what I want. I want the full version, the version that scared the shit out of me before.”

“Woods…” I sound breathless. Iambreathless. “I think,” I say slowly, “that our time has come and gone.”

I don’t know why I say it. Didn’t I come back to New York hoping for this very thing to happen? Wasn’t it my plan to come between him and Pearl? So why do I feel such trepidation?

“No.” He takes a step toward me.

I’m shocked to see his tears, the determination on his face.

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