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One Hundred and Two

Asher’s POV

“I left you for just some few minutes, and you left to go cause some chaos.” Brent said, sitting across from me at the club and I rolled my eyes. He didn't get to talk about that at all. This was about my wife so I was in the right.

“And you don’t think I've been beating myself up for that?” I asked him but he grunted. Grunting didn't answer me, so if he wouldn't say anything, he should just keep quiet altogether.

Then he spoke. “Oh please, we both know the reason you’re beating yourself up for it is because May is angry with you.” He said.

Okay, that was accurate, but it wasn’t the only reason, no, not at all. There was something else behind my actions, because I wasn't a tout or anything, just going around and doing things that didn't make sense, or just because I liked it.

I leaned back in my chair, the weight of Brent's words settling on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. The dim lighting of the club cast shadows across his face, but I could still see the concern in his
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