Page 22 of Hades

Before I could respond, the sound of a car pulled into the driveway, followed by a knock at the front door. Jenny adjusted her robe, clutching it closed over her cleavage.

“I’ll get it, honey,” I said, passing the spatula to her. “Watch the pancakes for me while I’m gone so they don’t burn, all right?”

She nodded and took my position at the stove.

When I opened the door, I found myself face to face with the biggest bouquet of red roses I’d ever seen.

“Delivery for Ms. Jenny McDaniels,” the delivery man said.

Jenny’s maiden name hit me like a splash of cold water to my face. It was bad enough to notice every time she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring anymore. But she usually hyphenated our surnames together, McDaniels-de la Cruz.

Hearing her drop my last name felt like a knife’s twist to my ribs.

I clenched my teeth, resisting the temptation to slam the door and dump the flowers in the garbage. But that wasn’t my choice to make.

“That would be me,” Jenny said.

After signing for the delivery, she accepted the flowers and plucked a small white envelope from the bouquet. I didn’t need confirmation to know who sent those roses—more roses than I could ever afford to give Jenny myself.

“Let me take a wild guess,” I said in a dry tone. “From Greyson. Thinking of you.”

When Jenny’s gaze met mine, her expression was torn with guilt.

I blew out a breath as if I’d been kicked in the stomach. Only seconds ago, I was basking in domestic bliss with my family over breakfast in the kitchen. In the blink of an eye, the moment was shattered, crumbling down around me.

“I can’t do this,” I said, my voice pained and quiet.

Jenny blinked, wide-eyed. But she said nothing. And that silence stung even more, because I wanted her to drop those damn roses and choose me, not him. The fact that she was even hesitating, considering the option of Greyson as a potential lover after spending the night with me…

I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, rough with morning stubble. Rocking back on my heels, I shook my head.

“I’m such an idiot,” I huffed with a bitter laugh.

I thought she would see that we’re still good together, that the passion between us continued to burn just as hot as it did when we first met over a decade ago.

Seeing Jenny with that gigantic bouquet of roses bundled in her arms, it finally hit home.

She wasn’t my Jenny anymore.

“I’ll finish up those pancakes and then I’d better go,” I said.

“Wait, Simon,” she said, pleading.

Too late. I had already turned and walked away.

Slouched at the bar in the clubhouse, draining another bottle of whiskey dry, I lost track of time. How long had I been here? A few hours? An entire day? I didn’t know and I didn’t care.

Bruiser planted his hands on the counter, fixing me with a firm look.

“Stop doing this to yourself, brother.”

“Leave me alone,” I mumbled.

“You’re a pathetic drunk.”

I shrugged, scratching at the label on the whiskey bottle with my fingernail. Bruiser glanced past my shoulder and beckoned to someone. A moment later, Ironside settled onto the bar stool next to me, wreathed in cigar smoke.

Before his marriage to Lena, Ironside endured the aftermath of an engagement gone wrong. His fiancée walked out on him, and he was left to pick up the pieces of his broken dreams for the future alone. He knew what it was like to face the gut wrenching realization that the woman you loved didn’t feel the same way in return.