Caleb is pointing at me. “What about her? What is she to you?” Jake’s jaw clenches tight in anger. “She’s my wife, asshole. Keep pointing at her like that, and I’ll break your fucking finger off.” “So why isn’t she your emergency contact?” he presses. “Why me?” “Because you’re my husband!” Jake bellows. “Fuck, am I gonna have to tattoo it on your forehead? Rachel is my wife. She’s my whole fucking world. But we’re legally married, Cay. That means you have to be my emergency contact. It’s like, the law…right?” He glances at me, desperately looking for validation.
