I need to get a fucking grip.
Billie had gotten married to her high school boyfriend as soon as she’d finished college, the summer before she started graduate school.The summer before we met.She never wore an engagement ring, just a wedding band made of white gold, which she never took off, not even when she had to wear gloves to work with chemicals.She said she liked how simple and clean the band looked.She’d gaze adoringly at it while wiggling her beautiful long fingers.
God, how I hated that thin piece of metal.I hated itsomuch.Every glance at it spoke of how I was too late, how I’d been late to the race before I’d even known there was a race.Before I’d ever met Billie, before I spent hours upon hours working beside her, geeking out, troubleshooting experiments, dealing with late nights, paper revisions, and nasty referees.Before we became friends, the best of friends, before we talked about everything, except for the one thing we couldn’t talk about, which was that I was hopelessly in love with her and that she’d been married—she had always been fucking married—to Douchebag Doug, who didn’t deserve her.He just happened to go to the same high school as her and had the good sense to realize what a spectacular woman hid behind the geeky highschooler mask, and he plucked her from the rubble, those were Billie’s words—plucked her from the rubble—like he was a tastemaker and she was fortunate to be discovered by him, and not like he’d been the luckiest motherfucker alive for having the privilege to even be near her.
Doug never liked that she was getting her PhD.My guess is he felt the degree would make it clear she was better than him.When Billie first joined the lab, he attended our group’s social events with her, but he would always stand by himself, beer in his hand, glowering, silent.Within a year, he stopped coming, which was a relief to me, and I think it was for Billie, too, because she was never as relaxed with him around as she was when it was just her and our friends...Or her and me.
God, I loved those times when it was just her and me.Ilivedfor those times.It was torture, not being able to touch her like I so desperately wanted.All those late nights in the lab, I felt the pull a million times and I could’ve sworn she felt something, too, because when things got tense and the air between us charged, she would reach for that fucking ring and twist it on her finger, like she was trying to ground herself, to remind herself of what she had at home.I knew she’d never betray Douchebag and that’s part of why I loved her so much.She was loyal, my Billie.
I never said anything, and she didn’t either.Sometimes I worried it was all in my head, the way she’d become my best friend, my reason for getting up in the morning.Other times, she watched me when she thought I didn’t notice, and I saw such longing on her face, my insides twisted and it took all I had not to turn around and grab her, rip those goggles and lab coat off her, and rail her right there on the lab bench, glassware shattering to the ground.
And here we are, eight years after I’d first met her, four years after I left the lab and the torture that was seeing her every day, knowing we’d be amazing together but that we’d never get a chance, andshe’s not wearing that goddamn ring.
I can only imagine how I appear at the moment, because my heart is racing, sweat pebbling on my brow.Billie gives me a quizzical look, and Edie’s face is pinched with unmistakable concern.
What puzzles me is that no one else has said anything about the ring.I can’t imagine the others haven’t noticed it missing, that Edie hasn’t asked about it.Do they know something I don’t?Should I say something?Should I wait?
Right when I feel like I might have a stroke, Edie and Billie get up to go to the bathroom.I sigh with relief and stand up to let them pass.
When I sit back down, I scoot over to Javi as he takes a swig of his beer.“Did you notice Billie’s not wearing her wedding ring?”I ask.
He downs a few gulps and raises an eyebrow.“Yeah?I mean, sure.”
“What do you mean, sure?”
“She got a divorce.It was finalized a few months ago.”
“What?Why didn’t you tell me?”
Javi winces.“What exactly did you expect me to do?Send an email with the subject ‘Billie’s single again’?”
“Yes!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs.“You’ve made it clear you’re not interested in keeping in touch.With any of us.The only reason you’re here now is because I’ve noticed you in the conference program, so I knew you’d be here.But I don’t have the faintest idea what you’ve been up to all this time.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he’s right.I did sever contact with everyone.I left everything behind because leaving married Billie behind was a respite from torture.I couldn’t take being in contact with anyone who knew her, because I couldn’t stand to see pictures of her smiling babies and stories of family bliss.
“Look, it’s not like I don’t get it,” says Javi, his face softening.“We all get it.But it still sucks that you had to fall off the face of the Earth.”
“What?”I frown, confused.“What do you get?”
“That it’s hard staying in touch.Because of Billie.”
I feel I should say something, but there’s nothing to say.Because he’s one hundred percent right.
“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb.”Javi’s voice is mostly amused, with a tinge of exasperation.“You’ve always been into her.It was pretty obvious.Made for some thick sexual tension; I thought we’d have to stick you two under the fume hood to syphon out all the pheromones.”
I think I’m going to be sick.“Did ...everyone know?”
“Pretty much.You weren’t subtle about it.”
“Fuck.”
“I will also note that you’re not denying it.”
“Fuck.Fuck!” I rub my eyes with the balls of my thumbs.“Do you think she knew, too?”
Javi shrugs.“No idea.She would’ve had to be blind not to see it.Then again, she never brought it up, so who knows?”
