I lean against the doorframe, my eyes on Damon as he shifts uncomfortably. His weight transfers back and forth between his feet, a telltale sign of anxiety.
"Emery saw you with another woman," I say, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside my chest. "But that can't possibly be true."
Damon's face contorts slightly. "She saw me?"
I can't get a read on his reaction.
"Yes. At a restaurant." My thoughts are interrupted by another laugh from somewhere in the house. My jaw ticks, and I add, "She saw you holding hands with someone. I told her it wasn't possible. That you would never?—"
"Never what? Fuck another woman?" Damon scoffs, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. "Please, Quin. You know me better than that. I left, didn't I? I'm no longer tied to one woman. If I wanted, I could have ten women in my bedroom and Emery couldn't say shit."
My ears burn. "You're lying, Damon. You wouldn't do that to Emery. You wouldn't do that to our child."
Damon's resolve wavers for a moment. "Are yousure about that? It seems exactly like something I would do."
"You wouldn’t hurt her like this," I insist. "You love her. I know you love her."
Damon steps closer, his face hardening. "Loved, Quin. Past tense. I’ve moved on. I suggest the two of you move on as well.”
"You selfish little prick," I snap. "You’re throwing away everything you had with her, and for what? A quick fuck? She won’t forgive you for this, Damon. She won’t give you another fucking chance."
Damon laughs bitterly. "Good. I don’tneedher forgiveness. What Idoneed is for the two of you to leave me the fuck alone.”
Anger surges through me, and I can’t take it anymore. I burst through the door, my gaze locking on a woman lounging on Damon’s couch, a glass of wine in her hand. She looks up, surprised to see me.
"Hi, I'm—" she begins to say, but I cut her off as I lunge at Damon, socking him in the face with all my pent-up rage.
"You pathetic bastard!"
Damon stumbles back, momentarily stunned. He stares at me for several loaded beats, shocked yet resigned. Before I can apologize, Damon finds his balance and retaliates, his fist connecting with my nose in a sharp burst of pain.
"Get the fuck out of my house," Damon growls. "You have your answer, Quinton. Now fucking leave."
Blood trickles from my nose, but I don't care. The physical pain is nothing compared to the betrayal I feel. "You’re a coward, Damon. Running away from what matters most. Do you think this is living? This is pathetic."
"Get out," he repeats, his voice cold as ice. "Before I make you."
I back away slowly, glaring at him one last time. "You’re going to regret this. Every single day."
Damon doesn’t respond, silently watching as I leave. I slam the door behind me, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. I pause outside his door, catching my breath.
This is it, isn’t it? There’s nothing else I can do. The man I once thought was my best friend is truly lost.
We lost him.
I step into the townhouse,and the moment the door closes, the weight of everything crashes down on me. My face throbs, a sharp pain in my temples. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe this is fucking happening. What a bastard. What a selfish, careless, bastard.
I barely make it two steps before Emery’s frantic voice pierces through my haze of pain.
“Oh my God! What happened to your face?”
“Nothing.”
I brush past her, heading straight for the kitchen. I grab a cloth, fill it with ice, and press it against my nose.
Emery clicks her tongue, undeterred. She takes themakeshift ice pack from my hands, rearranging it more efficiently.
“Damon did this, didn’t he?” she asks.
