Miles
I sat at the dining table, pushing the food around my plate, pretending like I wasn't just jerking off to the image of Cheryl in that wet bikini. My chest tightened as the memory intruded again, followed by the moment I ripped our marriage certificate.
“Ahem,” Minnie cleared her throat, her tone dripping with mischief.
I glanced up and caught the smirk playing on her lips.
“Why did you both take so long? Were you…”
“Shut up,” I snapped, cutting her off before she could finish the thought.
“Sorry,” she muttered, rolling her eyes, but the smug grin didn’t entirely fade.
My gaze shifted to Cheryl. Her bloodshot eyes and downcast face made guilt churn in my stomach. I didn’t understand her. Hell, I didn’t understand women, period. One moment she was calling me a groomer, and the
