But Toby wasn't done.
He leaned in close, dropping his voice to a murmur only the two of us could hear.
"So what if you run a company? You're still marrying a tramp I already had my fun with!"
"You're pathetic. A cuckold. That's all you'll ever be."
Before the last syllable left his mouth, he flipped his phone around. Fay's photo filled the screen.
She was draped in sheer black lingerie, her gaze heavy-lidded and seductive.
A completely different woman from the cold, untouchable image she showed the world.
Toby's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk. His expression was thick with the pleasure of someone reliving a private memory.
My pupils contracted.
Every drop of blood in my body felt like it had reached a boil.
In that moment, composure was no longer an option. Rage incinerated every last shred of reason I had left.
I swung. My fist connected with his face.
That single punch cost me two years in prison.
"Ha ha ha—"
The memory shattered. I was back in the restaurant, and Toby was still laughing, still gloating.
The rest of the diners joined in, their laughter bouncing off the walls.
Every single one of them was enjoying the spectacle of my humiliation.