I'd stopped expecting anything from him a long time ago. But my chest still clenched, tight and involuntary.
I picked up the glass and drank it down.
The burn seared a path from my throat to my stomach. A heavy weight dropped through my lower abdomen, and the pain sent me stumbling two steps sideways.
"Ms. Simmons holds her liquor so well. Why not finish the rest while you're at it?"
Florence pointed to the row of colorful drinks lined up on the table.
My expression went cold.
Florence turned to Noel, eyes brimming with hurt. "Noel, she called me a homewrecker. She threatened to kill my parents. After all that emotional damage, is it really too much to ask for this tiny bit of compensation?"
"Of course not." Noel pulled her closer and ground his cigarette into the ashtray, matter-of-fact. "Brooklyn, I'd like to help you, but you went too far. Do what Florence says. Once she's satisfied, you can make amends."
I nodded calmly.
Pressing one hand against my abdomen where the pain twisted like a knife, I reached for the decanter on the table. "A few glasses aren't enough to make amends. I'll finish the bottle."