Morris's POV
The cognac Grady handed me burned down my throat, matching the fire of regret consuming my insides.
"Drink up. It'll steady your nerves. Then you can tell me what happened," Grady said, his voice uncharacteristically serious as he reached for his phone. "Sebastian, Ms. Monica is taking the remainder of the day off. Thanks."
Grady settled across from me, matching me drink for drink. It took three shots before I could form coherent sentences.
"I've destroyed everything, Grady. My one shot at real happiness—gone. I love her more than anything, and I've made her despise me."
Grady sipped his cognac thoughtfully. "Since when does Morris throw in the towel at the first sign of trouble?"
I stared at him like he'd lost his mind. How could he not understand? Monica hated me. The disgust in her eyes had been unmistakable.
"I'm calling Darren," Grady said, rising to his feet. "Tonight, we drink at my place. Hand over your keys—you're in no condition to drive."
