“You’re really unhealthy. You’ll be dead in less than three years,” she told him.
“Thanks, doctor,” Matt said, before putting his beer to his lips and gulping down the rest of the bottle. He got up, using the armrest of the couch to steady himself. Matt was pretty drunk. He walked to the fridge for another beer.
“I’m not kidding!” she called after him, her words hitting the back of his head. He didn’t respond. Tanya waited till her boyfriend got back to the living room before asking, “You didn’t get me one?”
“I didn’t think you were drinking. You’re sitting here criticizing me for drinking too much and now you wanna beer?”
“You drink too much. I don’t drink too much. It’s your problem not mine.”
“I don’t drink too much, I drink just the right amount.”
“You should really drink less. And sleep more. You’re gonna die soon, three years, you’ll be dead.”
“I’ll bet you a thousand dollars that I’m not dead in three years.”
“Ok.” Tanya put her pinky out to bet on his mortality not to be cruel, but to make a point that she really worried about her boyfriend’s health.
“Ok.” Matt linked pinky fingers with her to seal the bet. He started laughing. “I can’t believe you bet me this, how can you win If I’m alive in three years, you’ll owe me a thousand dollars and if I’m dead, how do you expect me to pay you?”
“You put it in your will.”
“You’ve really thought this through, should I be worried? When you say I’m going to be dead in three years, do you mean you’re planning on killing me in three years?”
“I don’t need to kill you, you’re killing yourself.”
“Hey, let me enjoy my drink, alright? It’s Friday night, I’m watching a hockey game, I’m not hurting anyone.”
“Come on. Let a man drink in peace. If you’re nice to me, I might let you off the bet.”
“What do you mean?” she asked him.
“I mean, if and when I turn forty, I won’t ask you for the thousand dollars you’ll owe me.”
“What do you mean, owe you? You just said it’s a bad bet and…”
“But you still bet. You pinky swore bet. You can’t bet and then plan to welsh. There goes all trust in betting with you ever again.”
“But you said it was an unfair bet.”
“Still, it’s not my fault you made the bet. Buyer beware, beter beware, all’s fair in love and betting.”
“I don’t think it is. I think if you loved me, you wouldn’t be expecting to win this bet.”
“I think if you loved me you would want me to win this bet. I mean, let’s not forget that we’re betting on when I’m going to die and you took the under. As in you expect me under ground in less than three years. Thanks.”
“Not underground, I thought you wanted to be cremated.”
“Can we get off the topic of my death and let me watch a hockey game?”
“Fine. Watch professionals try and kill each other. Fine. I can just sit here and watch an amateur.”
Matt sat watching the game, saying nothing. Tanya lit a cigarette, leaned back on the couch and wondered what would come first: his death, or, their breakup. Either way, she was betting against him.