Page 65 of Worth the Fall

“What?”

“Brooklyn. She’s not your wife anymore. She’s your ex-wife.”

My insides were on fire, and Matthew laughed from somewhere behind me, spurring me on.

“She was my wife when you fucked her. How many times did you do it? How long was it going on? I bet you’re not the only one. You probably think you’re special.”

This guy was completely unhinged, and I wondered if he actually believed the vile things he spouted off or not. It was obvious the guy was hurting and clearly embarrassed that Brooklyn had left him, but, holy shit, take some accountability for your role in the demise of your marriage.

“Grow the fuck up,” I said.

“What did you say to me?” He tried to sound tough, but it was weak.

“I said, grow the fuck up. You just want to blame someone for your marriage ending, and heaven forbid you look in the mirror and blame yourself.” I ran a hand down my face. “Brooklyn did not cheat on you, and you know it,” I shouted at him before turning around to address the entire saloon, who was watching and listening. “Brooklyn did not cheat on this asshole.” I thumbed behind me. “Although I’m not sure why not when all he likes to do is play video games with his buddies.”

I spun on my heel to face Eli once more, leaning in real close to make sure he heard every word. “Can’t believe you actually left the house tonight. Don’t you have some game to play? Oh, that’s right. You can’t... what did you call it?” I tapped the side of my head before pretending to remember what he’d practically cried about at the resort. “Level up anymore without Brooklyn’s money.”

More gasps and a few laughs hit my ears.

“You don’t know shit. She’s nothing but a trash-can whore. And she did cheat on me. She might not have been fucking you, but she was definitely fucking someone.”

Lies.

Every word out of his mouth was a fucking lie.

“Call her a whore again,” I spat, having enough of this.

“Your girlfriend’s a whore. A cheating fucking slut. A no-good, lying bitch,” he spewed with such vitriol that spit hit my cheek.

I didn’t care how hurt this guy was that she’d left him. This was beyond forgiving. No more making excuses for his wounded ego.

“That’s it.”

I shoved him so hard that his back flew into the edge of the bar, and he let out an oof sound as he collided with it. The idiot tried to lunge at me, but I stopped him cold with one fucking well-placed punch to the side of the jaw.

The contact made a loud crunching sound.

People gasped as he went down.

My hand instantly ached.

I dropped to my knees as his eyes fluttered open. He at least needed to be conscious for this next part.

I lowered my voice, making sure he understood the severity of what I was about to say. “Call her names again, accuse her of cheating one more time, and I’ll make sure you’re fired from your job for harassment and anything else I can think up between now and then. I’m very fucking creative. I’ll also drive Brooklyn to the police station so we can get a restraining order against you, and I’ll make sure the whole town knows that you’re unstable and possibly unsafe.”

He groaned.

“Tell me you understand what I’m saying. Tell me you’re listening. Tell me you’re at least smart enough to shut the fuck up about this woman who did nothing but love you, until she couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I hear you,” he said, but his tone wasn’t as compliant as I would like. It was petulant and bordering on sarcastic.

“This shit with Brooklyn is done. Over. Find a new girlfriend and move on.”

I started to stand as Matthew extended his hand in my direction. I took it, and he pulled me up, slapping my back once I was standing upright once more.

“That was badass.”

“My hand hurts like hell,” I said as I looked at it, already discolored and bruising. “Thanks for calling me. I’ve got to get back home.”