“So,” he says with a cocky attitude. He looks around the room.

“What?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.

“Where’s your husband?” he asks. Now I get it. He was just waiting for the right moment to deliver his blow. I didn’t know he was such a good actor. He has got excellent timing.

“Tristan,” Kathryn says. She puts her hand on his arm, to try to get him to calm down. That used to be my job. I’ve been laid off. “Tristan, calm down,” she says under her breath. I try to hold back the smile that’s forming on my lips. What she doesn’t know is that he’s perfectly calm. Decisive. This is exactly what he wants to do.

“What? We’re all friends here, right? Alice? I’m just making small talk. Just wondering where your dear hubby is,” he says sarcastically.

Okay, I’ll play along. I look around the room.

“Dylan’s right over there,” I say pointing to the beer pong table. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yes,” he says reluctantly, taking a beat. I’ve called him on his bluff. “I’d like that,” Tristan adds.

I call Dylan over. When he sees the three of us, the expression on his face changes from exuberant and laid back to reserved in a moment. He stares at me. I shrug to apologize. There’s nothing I can do.

“Dylan, I’d like you to meet my…friend,” Tristan says, searching for the right word for who Kathryn is to him. The way he says it, we both know that it’s not true.

“This is Kathryn,” he says. “Kathryn, this is Dylan Worthington. My roommate and Alice’s husband.”

“Not for long,” Dylan says. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

I look at Kathryn. As they shake hands, Kathryn is so embarrassed, she looks like she wants the floor to open and swallow her right there and then. But Tristan remains oblivious, either completely unaware of how uncomfortable she and everyone else is, or callous to it. At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. But now, I’m not so sure. He’s beaming with pride. The wrong kind. He wants us to suffer. And he doesn’t care if Kathryn suffers along with us.

“Not for long?” Tristan asks. “Is the honeymoon over already?”

“There never was one, Tristan. You know that,” Dylan says. Then he turns to Kathryn to explain. “It was an accident. We’re getting it taken care of.”

“I see,” she mumbles.

“An accident? Oh, is that what you’re calling this?” Tristan says, taking a step back. Insulted. “People accidentally rear-end a car. They accidentally forget their keys and get locked out of their house. People do NOT accidentally marry their best friend’s girlfriend!”

“Okay, Tristan, calm down,” Kathryn says, sternly this time.

“I am calm,” he says, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. “But seriously. Why don’t we take a poll? I mean, let’s ask all of these people at the party whether what you two did can be considered an accident.”

None of us say anything. I feel like I’m watching a runaway train and I can’t do anything to make it stop.

“Hey, everyone. Everyone. Can I have your attention please?” Tristan says loudly. After a few moments, everyone quiets down and turns their attention to him.

“My roommate here, my best friend, Dylan Worthington went to Atlantic City a few weeks ago with my other roommate and my girlfriend. The girl who was the love of my life, or so I’d thought. And they got married and slept together. And they are saying that it was an accident. Now, my question to you all, is can we actually call it an accident? I mean, to me an accident is running into something or calling the wrong number. But not marrying your best friend’s girl.”

We all wait for someone to say something. Each second that passes feels like an eternity. And then a smart-ass from the back yells out, “It depends on how much they had to drink!”

Everyone laughs.

“See, that’s what they keep telling me,” Tristan says. “But the thing is that all of you in this room have been drunk plenty. And how many of you can say that you got married while you were drunk.”

“Maybe she just got tired of your moaning, man. Maybe your roommate doesn’t complain so much,” the guy in the back says again.

Everyone laughs with him and turns back to doing what they were doing. Tristan shakes his head and drops his shoulders. He’s embarrassed. And I’m sorry for him, but I can’t help but give out a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry, Tristan,” Dylan says. “I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t care,” he says, shaking his head. Tristan turns away from him, so Dylan turns to Kathryn.

“We’re getting a divorce. As soon as possible. We just have to get a lawyer and this will be over. Soon.”

“I know,” Kathryn says.

She’s speaking for Tristan. I hate how I seemed to have been replaced in a second. But I can’t blame anyone but myself. And the alcohol.

“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Tristan says. “I was really rooting for you two.”

The sarcasm in his voice is filled with pain. I wish there was something I could do to help him. To make all of this go away. But I’m helpless.

“You’re a real asshole, Tristan,” Dylan says.

“Oh, I’m an asshole? Seriously, man? I’m the asshole?” Tristan asks. He’s at a loss for words. I don’t know why Dylan had to say that. He was on the right track with his apologies. But now…everything’s even worse.

“I’m sorry.” Dylan turns to me, as if to answer what I was thinking. “But I’ve apologized for this plenty. I am sorry. I’m not making excuses. But if he doesn’t want to accept my apology there’s nothing I can do.”

“Fuck you, Dylan!” Tristan says.

“No, fuck you,” Dylan says.

We’re a second away from yet another fight. And I don’t know how to stop it. Luckily, Kathryn does.

“I’m leaving,” she says, grabbing her coat away from Tristan. He’s caught off guard.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m leaving,” she says again. She puts on her coat and puts her cup on the table.

“It was nice to meet you,” she says to me and heads toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Tristan yells after her.

“I’m leaving,” Kathryn says without turning around.

“Why?” Tristan asks, running up to her.

“Because you’re acting like a child. I didn’t come here with you for you to act like that.”

They continue to argue, but everything else they say is out of earshot. All I know is that Tristan isn’t able to get her to stay and they take their arguing outside.

The night proceeds at a more even pace after that. Dylan and I avoid each other. I spot Tea and Tanner and try to lose myself in a conversation with them. They were present for the scene that Tristan caused, but once he leaves, they thankfully don’t ask me anything more about him. Juliet hooks up with a guy I’ve never seen before, but luckily does not invite him to spend the night.

When I go to bed that night after cleaning up after the party, I’m well aware of the fact that Tristan isn’t back yet. I try not to think about it and what it means. He’s with Kathryn and they’re probably at her place. Instead, I just bury my head under the covers and force myself to fall asleep.