35. Seth
35
SETH
T he door slams and Corey storms back in, his face a thundercloud. He heads straight for the bar cart and pours himself three fingers of whiskey. Downs it in one go.
"Where's Abbie?" I ask, though I already know the answer from his expression.
"Gone. Called herself a ride." He slams the glass down. "What a fucking disaster."
Donovan rubs his hand where his knuckles are already starting to bruise. "Your son's always been an entitled little shit, but calling her that? In your house?"
"Speaking of which." I fold my arms as I lean on the counter. "Want to explain why you decked your godson? Bit extreme, even for you."
"He deserved it." Donovan won't meet my eyes. Or Corey's.
Corey pours another drink, this one larger than the first. "How the hell did I not know? All this time she was Chandler's ex?"
"Small world," I mutter, though my gut churns. The way she looked at all three of us tonight, before everything went sideways…
"Small world? That's all you've got?" Corey barks out a harsh laugh. "My son just accused me of fucking his ex. Called her..." He can't even repeat the word.
"He's just like his mother." Donovan paces, flexing his bruised hand. "Self-centered, entitled, narcissistic. No concept of consequences."
I take a slow sip of my drink, watching Corey's shoulders tense at the mention of his ex. "Look, this whole thing's a mess. Pretty sure Abbie didn't sign up for a family reunion when she agreed to dinner."
"No shit." Corey drains his glass. "Of all the eligible women in this city..."
Donovan stops pacing. His eyes narrow, darting between me and Corey. "Hold up. The way you two were looking at her... and that comment Chandler made..."
The silence stretches thick as molasses. Corey won't look up from his empty glass.
"You've both been with her, haven't you?" Donovan's voice drops low, dangerous.
My gut clenches. No point denying it now. "It was one night. The three of us-"
"The three of you?" Donovan cuts me off with a sharp laugh. "Jesus Christ."
"It wasn't like that," Corey snaps. "We didn't know about Chandler."
"And now?" Donovan's knuckles whiten around his glass. "What happens now?"
Donovan paces, his jaw tight, and then stops dead in his tracks. He looks at me, then Corey, like he’s about to drop a bomb.
"Yeah, okay. I kissed her. Upstairs. Might’ve... done more than that."
Corey freezes, the glass halfway to his mouth. "So she was telling the truth about that?"
Donovan runs a hand through his hair, looking guilty but not that guilty. "When she went to the bathroom, I followed her. It just... happened. She was there, I was there..."
Corey’s face goes red. "You what ?"
"I fingered her. Couldn't help myself."
I lean against the counter, crossing my arms. "So let me get this straight. You’re telling me that while we were all downstairs sipping wine and pretending to be civilized, you were upstairs finger-banging Abbie in Corey’s hallway?"
Donovan shrugs, but there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What can I say? She’s... persuasive."
Corey slams his glass down so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. "Persuasive? Jesus, Donovan! She’s half your age, and now my son thinks?—"
"And what about you, Corey?" Donovan cuts him off, his tone sharp. "You’re the one who started this whole thing. You were the one texting her, inviting her over, acting like you had some claim to her. You don’t get to play the victim here."
Corey glares at him, but I can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes.
I push off the counter, stepping between them before this turns into a full-blown fight. "Look, I’d have left too if every guy in the house had been inside me at some point. Poor thing probably feels like she’s stuck in some twisted soap opera."
Corey pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling like he’s trying to keep his temper in check. "This is a disaster. Chandler’s already insufferable enough without adding this to the mix."
Donovan crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. "Hey, I’m just saying—she’s not exactly innocent in all this. She could’ve said no."
"Could’ve," I say, raising an eyebrow. "But she didn’t. Which makes me wonder if maybe she’s got a thing for chaos. Or maybe she just likes the attention."
Corey shoots me a look. "This isn’t helping."
I throw my hands up. "What do you want me to say? This thing’s a dumpster fire, and we’re all standing here with gas cans."
Donovan laughs, low and dry. "Speak for yourself. I’m just here to enjoy the show."
"Shut up, fucker," Corey snaps.
I glance between them, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. "So what now? We all go home and pretend this never happened? Or do we actually try to figure this out before it blows up in our faces again?"
Corey looks at me like I’ve just suggested they solve world hunger. "And how the hell do you propose we do that?"
I smirk. "I don’t know. But if we’re all in this mess together, we might as well own it.
Corey slumps into a chair, the fight draining out of him. "I really fucked up. Of all the beautiful women in this city, I had to have a thing for Chandler's ex."
I watch my friend wrestle with his conscience. In twenty years of friendship, I've never seen him this torn up over a woman.
"You know what your son's like," I say. "He doesn't want her back. He just doesn't want anyone else to have her."
"Doesn't matter." Corey rubs his temples. "The relationship with my son is already hanging by a thread. If I pursue this..."
"He'll never forgive you," Donovan finishes, his voice heavy. He drops into the chair beside Corey. "And as his godfather, I should be telling you to let her go."
"But?" I prompt.
Donovan sighs. "But Chandler's a grown man who threw away something good because he couldn't get his head out of his own ass. And now he's trying to guilt-trip his father over it?"
"Doesn't change the fact that she's his ex," Corey says. "There are lines you don't cross."
"Lines?" I can't help but laugh. "Pretty sure we crossed all those lines already. Multiple times."
"Not helping, Seth." Corey glares at me.
"Look." Donovan leans forward. "I've watched you try to build a relationship with Chandler for years. But at some point, you have to stop letting him manipulate you with guilt. You're allowed to be happy too."
Corey stares into his empty glass. "Am I? Because right now it feels like I have to choose between my son and the first woman who's made me feel alive in years."
"Look." I set my glass down, choosing my words carefully. "When's the last time Chandler actually earned anything? Everything's been handed to him. And from what little I know about Abbie, she's not the type to stick around for that."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Corey's eyes narrow.
"It means your son's been living off his trust fund while she's working her ass off bartending and going to school. He dumped her for not being 'fun enough' because she couldn't party every night. Now he shows up with some new girl, claims they've been dating for months, but wants Abbie back? Come on. He doesn't deserve her."
Donovan nods slowly. "He's got a point. Remember last month when Chandler called me at 6 AM begging to borrow my car because his got impounded? Again?"
"And now he's playing the victim?" I continue. "Please. He's just pissed someone else might want what he threw away."
Corey slumps deeper into his chair, his head in his hands. "Fuck me."
"Take some time," I say. "Think it through. But don't let Chandler manipulate you with guilt. He made his choices."
"And what about Abbie?" Donovan asks quietly.
I reach for my keys. "Give her space too. This is one hell of a mess to process."
Corey just nods, staring into his empty glass like it holds all the answers. I can see when he needs to be alone with his thoughts.
"Come on," I tell Donovan. "Let's give him some time to think."