Page 68 of Mail Order Bride: A Psychological Thriller

“I want a divorce,” Gina says.

“You're overreacting,” I say, which both women apparently agree are the worst two words I could utter.

Yvette looks at me and bursts into laughter. “Oh my God.” She clutches her chest, and she’s laughing so hard she’s nearly hysterical. Finally, she looks at Gina. “I'm a whore, but I ain'thiswhore. Honey, you couldn't pay me enough.”

“I'm sorry,” Yvette says, doubling over again. “It's just that this is the funniest shit ever.”

“What kind of business?” Gina asks.

“Grave digging,” I say, and I’m not exactly winning any points for creativity.

“Protection,” Yvette says at the same time.

Gina shakes her head slowly from side to side. “Well, which is it?”

Both, I want to say, but don't. “What I meant to say was that Yvette is like a cousin to me. We grew up together. I check in on her from time to time. That's all.”

Gina looks at Yvette as if to say,“Is that right?”

“He helps me out,” Yvette says with a nod.

“You are so full of shit,” Gina hisses. “The both of you.”

I watch as she walks to the door.

“Where are you going?” It's a stupid question, but as you can see, I'm not exactly making the best decisions.

“I'm getting the hell out of here,” she says, turning around. “Marrying you was the worst fucking idea ever.”

“I'm sorry, boss,” Yvette says. “I should've lied. But that was just so much fun.”

“Fun?” I say, watching Gina pull out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. She gives me the finger. Nothing about this day has been even remotely tolerable, much less fun.

“Yeah, you know,” Yvette says. “Fun.”