Nox
"You know? How do you know?" Patrick asked, staring at me over the tall glasses of beer.
My head throbbed—literally. My forehead. I suspected the vein on my brow was visibly pulsing, the telltale sign of my frustration. The damn thing throbbed in time with my aching temples and clenched jaw. "I didn't know it had happened. I knew it was supposed to."
"You knew she was supposed to marry that ass and you let her leave?"
I lowered my tone as I leaned across the small table. "I didn't let her leave. She left to visit her mother who supposedly is ill. I told you before: she makes her own decisions. I was on my way. And I didn't know about the arrangement until after she left. If she only would have waited."
Patrick studied me for a minute before speaking. "Patience was never one of he
