The knock at the door was insistent, but Milo ignored it.

For a moment he’d hoped it was Constance, his heart leaping. But it soon came crashing down. He thought about the look on her face, how angry she’d been, and knew it wasn’t her.

And he had no interest in seeing anyone else, knew that no one else, nothing else mattered, not when Constance was gone.

But the asshole currently banging his door down didn’t seem to get the hint. Milo stood, propelled by rage to the door, now looking forward to finding whoever was on the other side. It’d give him a chance to let loose some of his anger, give him a few minutes away from the sadness that he knew would soon be back.

“What the fuck do you want!” he yelled as he pulled open the door.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t answer,” Val said.

“Fuck off, Val. I’m in no mood,” Milo said.

He went to close the door, but Val smoothly sidestepped him and entered.

Milo scowled, but his friend ignored him, instead looking almost amused.

“What the fuck do you want?” Milo snapped.

“Just a moment to watch you in this sorry state. I never thought I’d see Milo Preston fallen by love,” he said, a smirk playing on his usually rough features.

“Fuck off, Val,” Milo said.

“Fuck off? That’s your comeback? You can’t even muster a denial?” he asked.

Milo slammed past Val and to his scotch decanter. He poured himself a drink, making it a point not to offer Val one.

Val was undeterred, and moved to pour his own drink, looking at Milo with a smirk that Milo wanted to punch off his face.

The only reason he didn’t was because he knew that what Val said was true.

He loved Constance.

And he’d fucking lost her.

Val looked at Milo with something like sympathy in his expression, further proof—not that Milo needed it—that he was well and truly fucked.

“No luck getting Constance back?” Val asked.

Milo shook his head sharply, then took another sip, letting the alcohol burn down his throat before he spoke. “No. She’s adamant.”

Vincent huffed a laugh. “Good for her.”

Milo glared at him. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I’m glad she’s stood up to you. It’s about time someone did. I always knew Constance had more backbone than she let on,” he said.

“And what the fuck does that mean?” Milo growled, his anger rising with each second that passed.

“It means, asshole, that I always knew Constance wasn’t the meek little pushover you tried to make her out to be,” Val said.

“Pushover? Constance?” Milo replied.

That was never a word he’d use to describe Constance.

She was hardworking, dedicated, too kind for her own damn good, but he’d never thought of her as a pushover.

“So what are you going to do to get her back?” Val said, taking another leisurely sip of his scotch.

“Why are you so interested?” Milo asked.

“Boredom,” he responded, shrugging nonchalantly, an act Milo didn’t buy.

But soon, Val faded to the background and he pondered the question. What would he do to get her back?

“I’ve tried. She won’t budge.”

“Then try harder. You’ve been an overbearing jerk to that woman for years. Don’t stop now that it’s actually important,” Val said.

Milo nodded, but then paused and stared at his friend.

“Hey, why are you so convinced that I have feelings for her?” Milo said.

He’d been careful to keep those emotions under wraps, didn’t do anything that might betray how he felt.

But Val again gave that nonchalant shrug. “Hate to break it to you, Milo. But everyone knows you and Constance have been in love for years. The only people who didn’t see it was you two.”

Val polished off his drink, slapped Milo on the arm, and left, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts.

He loved her, loved her with all his heart, and he wouldn’t give her up without a fight.