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He pours himself a beer, then looks between me and Colston. “Alright. I’ve waited two long-ass weeks. What happened with Delia?”

Colston grins into his beer.

Trace points at him. “And this asshole has been holding it over my head the entire time because knowing something before I do is the greatest accomplishment of his life.”

Colston grins. “It’s been a really good two weeks.”

Trace flips him off. “You’re an annoying little shit.”

“Maybe, but you’d be just as bad. Admit it.”

Trace scoffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches into an almost-smirk.

I take a drink and lean back against the booth. “I found out she got her tubes tied a year ago.”

Trace’s expression changes so fast it almost makes me laugh.

“What?”

“Yeah.”

His eyes flick to Colston like he’s checking whether this is some fucked-up joke, but Colston just shakes his head.

Trace looks back at me. “You spent all that time thinking⁠—”

“I know.”

“Jesus.” He drags a hand over his jaw. “I always hated her, but fuck.”

“Didn’t you tell him that at their wedding?” Colston asks, a shit-eating grin on his face.

I nod at Trace. "You did, which was fucked up, by the way."

He shrugs, unrepentant. "Yeah, well, you didn’t listen so."

"I was in love with her."

He picks up his beer again. “Never said you weren’t also a dumbass.”

Colston snorts.

For a few seconds, Trace just stares at me.

Then his mouth tightens. “I know we aren’t supposed to hit women, but fuck, I want to run her over with my truck.”

A laugh pushes out of me before I can stop it. "Get in line."

Trace leans forward again. "Tell me you didn't let her walk away with everything." He gives me a look because he knows me so well, and I look away because sometimes it sucks being called on your shit.

"We never merged our accounts." I lift one shoulder. "I told her she could keep the house. I just want out."

"No fucking way." Trace points at me with two fingers still wrapped around his glass. "You want out, get out. But don't hand her a free house because you're too pissed off to deal with her."

“I told him he’s being an idiot,” Colston unhelpfully adds.

I shoot him a glare. "I don't want months of fighting over shit I don't care about."

"Then pay somebody else to fight about it." He gives me a hard look. "That's what divorce lawyers are for."