Dani. And David.
Me. And Bill.
It made perfect sense. I wondered if David had even considered how it might hurt me to hear that. Surely, after all this time, he didn’t consider my feelings anymore. Why should he?
And would it matter if he did? In the end, things were as they were supposed to be. Who was he to me? A mistake. A mark that could never be erased for the entirety of my marriage. Long after I’d have forgotten him, he would still remain a part of my past.
Long after I’ve forgotten him . . .
When will that be? How much longer until I forget?
It felt like a lifetime had passed already since that night. But though I worked hard not to think of David, the way he’d made me feel persisted. How being near him, everything else would fall away. The way I’d watched him watch me with hungry eyes. Kisses, whispers, sensations in the dark.
I looked up at the night sky for a long time. In moments like these, I longed to be back in Texas, where I could lie in my dad’s backyard and blanket myself with millions of stars. Tonight, there were few.
So this is how it goes.
When a prick of light shot across the sky, leaving a faint silver streak in its path, I didn’t bother making a wish. I just turned and went back inside.
3
Gretchen’s fists shot into the air. “Feel the burn!” she screeched, the candy penises on her braceletclackingtogether.
I quickly bit into a lime, and my jaw tingled. Scrunching my face, I plucked the rind from between my teeth to drop it into the empty shot glass.
“Nice,” she said. “Three in a row. I’m impressed.”
I hiccupped and smiled. I’d decided thatdrunkwas the only way I’d be able to handle this bachelorette party—and any more talk of David and Dani. “I’ll take another Cosmo,” I told the bartender.
“You’re going to make yourself sick, mixing liquors like that,” Gretchen warned.
“Pfft. I’m no rookie.” I arched an eyebrow. “Are you forgetting who taught you how to drink?”
“That’s debatable. Still, tequila shots and Cosmos? Gross. And maybe even lethal.”
I answered her with a shrill laugh that hurt even my own ears. I could almost feel the alcohol eating away at the pit in my stomach. It was just acidic enough to erase the toxicity of my shame for a night. It was relief, sweet and bitter. I took my drink and followed Gretchen back to our booth in the VIP section of the downtown club.
“Anyway,” Bethany was telling the group of girls as we rejoined them, “that was it for them. After an affair, three years of counseling, and two children—it was forgetting to replace the milk that finally did in their marriage.”
Ava shook her head. “So sad. That happened to my colleague, too. One day she came home from work, and her husband said, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ Can you imagine?”
“We’re talking about Bethany’s married friend from college who’s getting a divorce,” Lucy explained to Gretchen and me. Turning back to the group, she said, “Not everyone is as lucky as me and Andrew.” She shrugged as if she were helpless to the fact. “We have the kind of romance that most people can only hope for.”
“It’s true,” Ava said. “You guys are soulmates.”
Dani released anaww. “How sweet is that?”
I laughed into my Cosmo.
“What?” Lucy asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I said and took a sip.
“No, what?” Lucy asked. “Why is that funny?”
“It’s not funny, it’s just . . . idealistic, I guess.”
“Liv,” Gretchen said, warning in her tone.
