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A guy at a nearby table stared at him.
Damon stared back.
He looked away.
“How exactly is my life perfect?” Damon asked.
Charles finished off his beer. “You don’t have any financial worries, because you have an endless supply of money. Whether your books sell or not, you’re still swimming in it.”
Damon blinked a few times. “You mean the money I got because my father killed my mom?”
Charles looked away.
“What’s going on? Why are you lashing out at everyone?”
“Does it matter?” asked Charles.
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Then you’re wasting your time.”
“Why won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Damon asked. “I’m your friend.”
“You’d never understand.”
“Try me.”
“I just want to be alone.”
“Do you care that your wife is at home, crying because she doesn’t know what she did to make you angry?”
Charles jolted.
“She’s really upset.”
“So, you are on her side.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not taking sides. Will you please just tell me what’s bothering you so I can help?”
“Where do you want me to start? With her demands that I impregnate her, which I obviously can’t do? I don’t think you can help with that.”
“Do you want me to look into other doctors for you?”
“Just leave me alone. The fact that I can’t do this is emasculating.”
“A lot of people have a hard time conceiving. It doesn’t make you less of a man.”
“I said go.” Charles turned from him.
“If that’s the way you want it.” Damon placed a twenty on the counter and went outside, his pulse pounding. He’d never seen Charles like that before. The things he was spouting off about Damon’s supposedly perfect life had to be because he was drunk. That was the only explanation.
If he didn’t change his tune soon, Damon and Ari would find somewhere else to stay while waiting for their new home to be built. He wouldn’t stay at the Gillon’s if Charles really felt that way about him.
