The Favor

I felt my brow furrow. “How am I standing in the way?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance to make up for what I did, but you won’t.”

“There are plenty of ways you could try to fix your fuckup,” I pointed out. “I won’t get in the way of them, but I also won’t trust you with plans for the reception. Find another way.”

“And you’ll support my friendship with Dane?” she challenged, folding her arms. “You won’t feel threatened by how close he and I are?”

Threatened? Was she serious? “I don’t think you two are quite as close as you’d like me to believe.”

“And why not?”

“Because people share their happy moments with those who are closest to them. He never called you to tell you about our engagement. He never called you when we stood outside the chapel. He didn’t even send you text messages. And I heard him tell you more than once that what you believe is irrelevant to him. That kind of says it all.” So it was downright insulting that she expected me to think differently.

Color rose in her face. “You just don’t like that he and I were once an item.”

“An item? Oh, Jenny, this shit’s just petty.”

“It’s Jen.”

“You and Dane slept together. Once. The end. Why do you want me to think it was more than that? I honestly don’t see what you’d get out of that on a personal level. Unless you have none-too-platonic feelings for him.”

Her eyes sparkled like chips of ice. “I’m married to his brother.”

But maybe she’d wanted to marry a different Davenport. Maybe she’d settled for Kent. Or maybe she just felt some sense of ownership over Dane due to their past one-night stand or long-term friendship.

“I love Kent,” she stated.

That didn’t necessarily mean she loved him as a wife should love her husband, or that she didn’t have feelings for Dane as well.

“I care for Dane, he’s family to me,” she added.

“Coming into his home and acting this way toward his wife—that’s not what family should do to family.”

Jen went to speak again, but then she stilled at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She plastered a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth expression on her face and let the tension leave her posture in a rush.

The brothers entered the den, talking amongst themselves.

She smiled sweetly at Dane when he handed her the cup of coffee. “Thanks, Dane.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. It seemed he wasn’t buying her act. He sank on the sofa, retaking his earlier spot beside me, and draped his arm over my shoulder. “You all right?”

I pouted and forced my lips to wobble. “No. Hold me.”

He gave me a droll look.

Kent’s mouth quirked. “I like that you don’t take him too seriously. He needs that. Who knows? You might even help him develop a sense of humor.”

Unlikely. “Let’s not expect miracles.”

“I have a sense of humor; I’m just not easily amused,” said Dane. “Unlike some people, who’ll laugh at the most inappropriate moments. Like during their wedding ceremony.”

The memory made my shoulders shake with silent laughter. “It wouldn’t have been half as funny if you weren’t so annoyed.”

“You still haven’t showed me the video of the ceremony,” Kent said to him.

Dane pulled his cell out of his pocket. “I downloaded it onto my phone.”

I blinked. He did? I’d saved it on my laptop, but not my phone. I honestly figured Dane would have stuck the thumb drive in a draw somewhere and shoved the recording from his mind once he’d showed it to the relevant people.

Taking the phone, Kent scooted closer to Jen on the sofa. As they watched the video, he snorted and chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. Jen actually smiled, amused in spite of herself.

Kent handed the cell back to his brother. “God, Dane, your expression was priceless.”

Dane pocketed his phone. “Hmm.”

“Well, it’ll be something to show the grandkids,” said Kent.

It was only by sheer force of will that I didn’t drop my smile. There’d be no kids, no grandkids. Not for me and Dane. I’d be gone in under twelve months. That was almost as sad as the thought of him living in this big house alone, year after year, growing older and older.

I could only hope that, unlike with Hugh, loneliness never eventually struck Dane. I didn’t want him to live with regrets. I didn’t want him feeling alone and empty, even if that meant he never once regretted our upcoming divorce.

After Kent and Jen drove through the security gates a short while later, Dane closed the front door and turned to me. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing. You were good at hiding it from them, but something’s bothering you.”

I was still feeling a little down at the thought of our inevitable divorce. I wouldn’t only leave this house, I’d leave o-Verve … and I’d probably never see Dane again.