Chapter 37

Becky

8:45 PM THURSDAY

Eventually, I decide I need to find the girls. If I had hoped for Liam to come back, he hasn’t.

And deep down, I know he won’t. Right now, I don’t fucking know what else to do but speak to my BFFs.

It takes me a little while to get my bearings and walk toward one of the doors out of this deluxe suite Liam has brought me to.

I paid no fucking attention where Percy, Mysti May and Sammi disappeared to. So randomly, I open doors and peer in. This place is a fucking labyrinth.

It’s upon opening a door with the words Private Bar on it that I find my BFFs. With a sigh of relief, I join them. Percy’s smoking cigars and has several drinks lined up in front of her.

“What the…” I start and point to the row of drinks.

“On the house,” explains Percy, blowing perfect rings of smoke into my face.

Some of it catches in the back of my throat, and I cough.

“So what did Liam have to say?” Sammi stands next to me, holding a glass of champagne in her right hand.

A glance in Mysti May’s direction confirms she’s also nursing something alcoholic. I shake my head.

What the fuck was happening to us? Are we turning into alcoholics? All we seem to have been doing since we fucking got here is drink, eat, and drink again.

Okay, I haven’t been doing much eating, but I’ve consumed my fair share of alcohol.

Which is worse.

“He charged at those dickheads like a raging bull,” Mysti recalls and giggles. “He’s certainly smitten by you.” Her eyes move past me. “What’d do you with him? Leave him tied up somewhere?” She giggles.

I close my eyes and reach for solid support. Lately, my legs seem to have fucking trouble keeping me upright, threatening to give way under me all the time.

Was I suffering muscle wastage or have I caught some rare fucking disease which is making me lose control of my body slowly? Or, like, my whole life?

Of course not, you idiot, my inner voice pipes up, but I quash it. I don’t want to listen to fucking reason right now.

All I want to do is wallow in self-fucking-pity. I know this achieves nothing, but that doesn’t do anything to change my mind.

“He…” I start and stop again. Briefly, I close my eyes and try to order my messed up head. I need to make sure I get the fucking order of events correct. “Liam told me what happened that night. It’s all so fucking confusing, and―”

Mysti May pats me on the arm. “Just tell us from the beginning what he told you.”

Sammi and Percy nod. They crowd around me.

I take another sip of my drink before I take a deep breath.

And then I tell them roughly what Liam told me.

They listen to me. Not one of them interrupts my story. And as I narrate what happened last night, an unsettling feeling comes over me.

Going over it like this…it spreads doubt through me. How could any of this have happened? Surely Dan wouldn’t just lie to me and pretend to stay in San Fran-fucking-cisco, would he? I shake my head.

Don’t fucking analyze as you tell the story, I remind myself and try and keep my thoughts on track.

“I don’t know what the fuck I should do? Any ideas, suggestions?” I finish my sorry saga and look at my best friends. Mysti May grabs a bottle out of a silver cooler I hadn’t noticed before and refills my glass.

Percy continues to blow fucking shapes of smoke as if she’s a dragon learning how to write using her nostrils.

The thought brings a little smile to my face. Imagine if she were a dragon. That would be fucking funny.

Maybe she could burn someone down? But who?

I’m so fucking confused I still don’t know what to make of all this and who to fucking blame― that is, other than myself.

“I don’t understand the big fucking deal,” Percy answers my question first. “I mean, you definitely married the hotter brother. Take it as a fucking sign, gorgeous. You’re meant to be with the sex god and not the loser. There’s always been something strange about Dan. I mean just think: Dan, what sort of a lame name is that? I say good riddance, Dan the Man.”

Not helping, I think to myself.

Mysti is playing with the straw in her drink. Her expression is all dreamy; like she’s having a wet dream she doesn’t want to share with anyone.

“I don’t know, Becky. I think you need to let bygones be bygones. After all, I’m soooo happy with my husband back in Texas. I mean, we’re like this.” She wraps her middle finger over her index finger as she speaks.

Percy looks and grins at me. It is the kind of look that says We all know she’s in the fucking closet and you can’t believe a fucking word she says on this subject.

A glance in Sammi’s direction, and I see her give me the same fucking meaningful glance: Who the fuck is she kidding?

I nod in agreement. We three know Mysti May is obviously fucking gay. I’m pretty sure she admitted it herself earlier.

But I guess now that things have calmed down, she’s tiptoed right back into the closet, huh?

I don’t fucking care. I’ve not met this perfect husband of hers anyway.

“What does it matter anyway?” Sammi asks.

“Because,” I reply and stop. It’s too fucking painful to work out why it matters.

“I mean, what you need to do is approach this logically and consider the facts,” Sammi says.

If it wouldn’t hurt so much, I think I’d roll my fucking eyes at her.

“I don’t understand―” I start, but Sammi gets me to shut up.

She’s got a pen from somewhere and a serviette in front of her.

“Let’s write down all the facts.”

Sammi is a sucker for lists. Whenever there’s a problem, she’d make a list. To make a decision about something, she’d make a list. It is definitely just like her to make a list now.

In a few minutes, she has written down what has happened, including the incident Liam told me about.

I stare at her neat handwriting.

Her letters are beautiful. My own is fucking atrocious. Whenever I have to write anything, I can never read it again.

Not so with Sammi. The words glare at me, dare me to believe them.

Dan cheated on me.

Actually, it was so much worse. There is so much hidden in those words, stuff not written on Sammi’s list, screaming at me. I block my ears―I don’t want to fucking hear it.

Not only did Dan allegedly cheat on me, he fucking lied to me, strung me along from beginning to fucking end.

“The facts speak for themselves, baby.” Sammi points at her list.

I shake my head.

“I don’t know all the facts, though,” I insist and feel a bit mulish. “I can’t remember the bit about Dan. It’s a fucking blank.”

Maybe I’m being a bit too stubborn about this. Or was it something else?

Deep down, there’s a flicker of recognition.

I try and blow it out. I don’t want to fucking go there.

Go away.

But it grows.

Of course I know why I’m being stubborn about this. Accepting what Liam told me means I have to accept Dan for what he is.

Accepting the story Liam told me means I need to reevaluate Dan and my relationship and with him and my entire fucking life.

Maybe I’m just not ready to do this yet.

I sigh.

“If I could remember,” I start and look at no one in particular, “I could―” But I’m interrupted by Percy who’s blowing a huge ring of smoke into my face and grins.

“Did Liam say you went at Dan with a fucking fire poker?”

I nod. The smoke brings tears to my eyes and catches in the back of my throat. I cough. I really wish Percy would stop smoking that fucking cigar. So what if the thing was free?

“I know. It’s too fucking bizarre for words, isn’t it?” I reach for the glass of champagne someone has put it front of me when my coughing fit subsides. May as well continue my current fucking diet of alcohol, the occasional cup of coffee, and then more fucking alcohol.

Briefly, I wonder how long you can survive on this kind of crap, before stopping the thought. Who gives a fuck?

“Holy shit,” shouts Percy. “I think I gave it you.”

Slowly, I turn my head to look at her.

“You what?” For some fucking reason my brain cells seem to be taking extra fucking long to work lately. It is as if they’ve gone on a long vacation and abandoned me in my hour of fucking need.

“I gave you the fire poker,” Percy says, grinning like an idiot. “I put it right there in your hand. Holy shit, I remember now.”

Open-mouthed, I stare at Percy and a cocktail of fucking emotions erupts inside of me.

“Tell the story,” I say.

Percy smiles and blows a smoke ring. “Well, it all started with me sitting on the face of a Cuban masseuse…”