Page 9 of Hades

“How did it go?” I asked, my voice rough. “Your date.”

Despite the dim light of the hallway, I could clearly see the way Jenny’s pupils darkened and her lips parted. When she sucked in a breath, her tits strained against the lacy collar of her blouse. My mouth watered at the memory of tasting them, their silky soft weight in my hands, the sweetness of her nipples pebbled under my tongue.

“Why are you asking?” Jenny rasped. “I suppose you would be thrilled to find out that my date stood me up. Or it was so bad that I’m no longer interested in dating at all anymore.”

Yes, I thought. Deep down, I hoped that every single date she went on was a disaster. Then Jenny would finally realize that she belonged with me.

But that was selfish. And I knew it.

Above everything else, I wanted my Jenny to be happy.

I cupped her chin, pressing my thumb to the swell of her lower lip.

“I want to hear that he didn’t make you cry, mi amor. Like I did.”

Jenny blew out a breath and took my wrist, pressing her cheek into my palm.

“Damn it, Simon. You can’t call me that either. But no, he didn’t make me cry. He was…”

She paused, searching for the right words. Then she removed my hand from her cheek, tracing my tattooed knuckles with her fingertip.

“He was amazing. Intelligent, accomplished, a good listener, kind. And I…I liked him.”

My throat tightened and I clenched my teeth so tightly that my jaw ached. I knew this was coming. I knew my Jenny was one hell of a catch. And I knew it would hurt like a bitch when she married someone else.

Nothing could prepare me for how excruciating it was to finally watch it happen. To feel like I was being sliced open with a hot knife and my heart was pulverized to a bloody pulp.

Jenny peered up at me, searching my face. It took every ounce of will power to keep my expression neutral. To not let her see the agony that twisted up my insides into a tangled knot of torture.

“Did he kiss you?” I asked, hoarse.

“Simon,” Jenny pleaded quietly.

“Did he kiss you?” I repeated, more firmly this time.

I needed to know. I needed to hear her say it.

Jenny swallowed hard, chewing the inside of her cheek.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said.

Clearly she liked it, too.

Pulling away, I moved to the other side of the corridor across from her, leaning back against the wall. I tucked my hands behind me, physically keeping myself under control. I had a habit of unconsciously touching Jenny without realizing it—absently brushing my fingertips over her shoulder, or resting my hands on her hips when I stepped past her.

But I couldn’t do that anymore.

“Oh,” I said as understanding dawned on me. “I didn’t just interrupt your date. I cockblocked you.”

“Simon,” Jenny hissed, taking a sharp step forward. “Don’t be crass.”

I arched an eyebrow, gazing down at her. She glanced away, rubbing the side of her neck.

“You should call him,” I said. Because I was a glutton for punishment, choosing to torture myself like this. Digging the shame of losing my wife into my own ribs even deeper. “The two of you can pick up where you left off.”

Jenny huffed and shook her head.

“No, it’s…it’s late. And if Casey wakes up in the middle of the night, I want to be here for him.”