Page 31 of Hades

Seeing her tear up like that, I was halfway out of my chair when Pretty Boy grabbed the back of my cut and pulled me down.

“She’s not here for you, brother,” he said.

Lila hurried to Jenny’s side. They bowed their heads together, talking for a moment, then vanished into the kitchen.

“That asshole made my wife cry,” I said.

“Even if he did, you can’t go barging in there right now,” Pretty Boy pointed out.

“But—”

“Jenny went to Lila. Not you.”

That stung. It was the truth, but it still hurt. I gritted my teeth, steaming, fighting to stay seated in my chair. After a minute or two, Pretty Boy’s phone buzzed with a text. He fished it out of his cut pocket and glanced at the screen.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s Lila. Jenny got dumped.”

I sputtered.

“What kind of fucking bastard dumps a woman like my Jenny?”

Pretty Boy held up a hand to silence me.

“She said it was because of you.”

I blinked with surprise and sagged into my seat, deflated like a punctured balloon. I ran my hands through my hair, wracked with guilt.

“Did she—?”

“I don’t know any details,” Pretty Boy cut in. “But I think that’s more than enough.”

Bile burned the back of my throat. What did I do to ruin her chance at happiness? Was it because I showed up on her lawn drunk? Or was it my refusal to date somebody else and move on? Or maybe I was getting in the way and holding her back from living a better life?

Pretty Boy gave my shoulder a sympathetic squeeze.

“Can I get you a whiskey?”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “And keep ‘em coming until I can’t remember my own name.”

He nodded and headed for the bar. I consoled myself by envisioning the grip of a baseball bat in my hands, taking a swing at that smug Greyson’s kneecaps after all.

“Simon.”

My head snapped up at the sound of Jenny’s voice. She stood at the head of my table, twisting her fingers into her skirt. Her beautiful hazel eyes were rimmed with red from crying.

“Hey, honey,” I whispered.

Silence stretched between us for a moment. I didn’t know if I had a right to touch her anymore. But I reached out anyway, offering my hand to her.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, deliberating. Then she placed her palm in mine. I closed my fingers around hers, my wedding ring glinting in the dim light of the clubhouse.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” I said.

Jenny gave a beleaguered sigh.

“In your eyes, no man will ever be good enough for me.”

“I should know better than anyone how true that is,” I replied. “I fumbled an amazing woman, a beautiful wife, and I’ll be regretting that for as long as I live.”