"My lips are sealed." It was the last thing he had ever said to her, and he hoped even in death she understood that he meant it. When Boris had agreed to meet Alicia at the Tiki Motel six hours earlier, he had had no intention of killing her, but now here he lie next to her motionless body in cockroach infested motel bed. He had already picked several out of her dull, brown hair. She was by no means a beautiful woman, but he could really see that now. She was short and squat, and her eyes were a dark brown and they stared up at the ceiling. He wanted to close them, but he was afraid they'd flicker open even if he did. She still had a strange smirk on her face. Did people usually die with a smile? He hoped he wouldn't, it was terrifying. Was she smiling because somehow she had still won? He could not escape the consequences of his actions, and he wasn't sure he wanted to anyway. He held her left hand in his right, it was limp and cold to the tough. He grazed his finger over her wedding ring. Her finger bloated do that the ring dug into her skin. She was his best friend's wife. How could he have ever slept with her? It hardly seemed worth it now, but nothing seemed worth it after the alcohol had worn off. The night's events played over in his head. Had it all really only happened two months ago?

Two Months Ago-

Somebody had suggested shots, but Boris couldn't be sure who. Maybe Jason, maybe Alicia. He scanned the room for the girl he had been talking to only moments ago. But she had disappeared into the crowded house. He knew Alicia didn't like her, but he couldn't remember why. Partly because he didn't care, and more than partly because his head was spinning from doing so many shots. How many had they done so far? At least twenty. He wanted to leave, but he couldn't drive like this. Maybe Jason would let him stay over, he had before in the past. That had been before Alicia. Somebody was holding his hand now, and he turned to see that it was Alicia. She was smiling and saying something to him, but it didn't make sense. He looked around for Jason, now. There he was in the kitchen with the girl with glasses. They were laughing and talking. She hadn't been laughing that much with him, she was so quiet. How did he always get people to laugh? Maybe he could go over there and rescue her from him. He started to walk over there, but he tripped and fell into two girls who just laughed and walked away. Alicia helped him up, which was awkward because he was already so much taller than her. She was still saying something to him, but he couldn't understand. He thought he fell into her, but her hands were rubbing him and holding him and then she was kissing him. Her lips were so dry, and she smelled of Patron and tasted like onions. She pushed him into a closet, unzipping his pants. Why was he letting her do this? It didn't even feel good as she went down on him. Regardless, he still pushed her head further down. She started choking, "Oh, fuck." He slurred. "No problem." She replied, and she pulled off her leopard printed leggings and hoisted herself up onto him, wrapping her legs around his waste. He held her, still wondering what he was doing, but he was so drunk, he didn't care enough to stop it. No one would ever have to know.

Boris jerked himself back to reality. That was how he remembered it happening. She said otherwise. She had accused him of raping her. She claimed he had forced her to do those things to him. There was no proof that he had, but he knew she'd tell Jason anyway. Jason. The same Jason she always accused of beating her and threatening her life. Had he really? Was she even really pregnant? He'd probably never know the answer now. He had strangled her out of fear and desperation. She had threatened to go to the police about him. She had said it was his word against hers, "They'll never believe you, so don't be an idiot." She had shouted. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it had only happened three hours ago. She wouldn't stop screaming, he hadn't known how to make her stop. He tried to scream back, but she wouldn't listen. He had grabbed her and tried pleading with her to not do this, but she had just slapped him and told him that he had ruined her marriage, and now that "little bitch" was telling everyone what had happened. He still didn't know who she meant. He closed his eyes, but even with them closed, he could still see her face and could still feel how it felt to squeeze her neck with his hands. Tighter and tighter until she was no more. He wondered idly how long it would take for the police to find them. Surely someone had called about the noise by now. He thought he could hear sirens in the distance, but maybe he was just hoping for that. He rolled over to look at her, another cockroach wiggled through her hair. If only that could be him right now, but he already felt like a cockroach. Alicia's body was staring to smell worse. Why was it taking them so long to find him? He just wanted to leave, to not ever have to see her again. He didn't want to see anyone ever again. Would it have been easier if he had just killed himself? Would he have gone to Hell? He wasn't a religious person, but perhaps God would have had mercy on his soul. That was a stupid thing to think. He laughed. And he found that he couldn't stop. Whatever happened and wherever he ended up, he knew there was only one thing he would ever say,

"Our lips are sealed." The door burst open, and he still couldn't stop laughing even when someone pulled him away from Alicia and threw him to the floor. He began repeating "our lips are sealed" over and over again through laughter. Why couldn't he stop? He never would.