This last week has been hell, my mind plagued with swirling thoughts. I’ve gotten by alright in my daily routines, but I’ve been sicker than usual this week. Just knowing that if I spent a few minutes alone with Trevor I could make it all go away seems like it makes the virus even worse.

The thing is, I don’t think I can do that to Jack. If he found out, he’d be devastated. And with all the help he’s trying to give me, working with the credit agencies, it’d be a kick in the face. Thinking all this has just made my week worse. The only solace I’ve had came in the form of a letter from Jack. It was full of news, more information about that nurse in Colorado. She was convicted of hampering justice and sentenced to three years in a normal prison. That isn’t great news. If Trevor finds out about it he’ll probably only up his price, which deters any hope I had of bargaining him into something else, though I don’t know what that would be.

Jack also wrote me that he found a loophole in the student loan repayment plan that might help us. It looks like he can repay my loans and get me out of jail if we were married. He didn’t go into any more detail than that, I’m not sure if I was supposed to take that as a proposal or not. I doubt it.

We talked about it once, about a year after we started dating, before we moved in together. We were in his kitchen. I was cooking for him, lemon juice shrimp scampi and sting beans. We’d already had a couple of glasses of wine. I was feeling pretty tipsy, having fun pushing the shrimp around in the frying pan.

Jack was feeling amorous, he was standing behind me and inching his hands down my pants as I cooked. I made a show of smacking his hands away, protesting that I was trying to concentrate, but I didn’t really mind.

A half an hour later the smoke alarm went off. We’d let dinner burn, but I don’t think either of us minded.

After opening the windows to clear the smoke, we sat out on the balcony finishing off the wine while we waited for the pizza delivery guy. That’s when we decided to move in together, but the momentum of the conversation was such, it went a little further, dancing around the issue of getting married someday. Neither of us wanted to push it too far, and the delivery driver’s knock on the door halted it completely. We never brought it up again.

Until now, that is. If you can call a letter like that “bringing it up.”

It’s something to think about, anyway. I still have twenty-two months in this place if it isn’t an option.

It’s a weird juxtaposition, placing the idea of marriage and Trevor’s bribe up against each other in my mind. It’s weird how close both seem. No, that’s not quite what I mean, it’s just…well, in the end, the payment is the same. I guess phrasing it like that doesn’t seem fair to Jack.

Either way, I’ve been trying all week to get another chance to talk to Tereza and ask her what the hell. I want to know if she pays Trevor. I want to know how she can do it. I don’t want to feel sick anymore, but I’m not sure I’m ready to pay that.