"Don't stoop to his level," Caden told Darian. "He's just lashing out because his wife dumped him and nobody loves him anymore."
It was meant to soothe Darian, but it instantly turned Fairfax's expression murderous.
Caden flinched under the death glare. "Okay, my bad. Should've kept my mouth shut." He was losing his mind between these two.
Fairfax grabbed a fresh bottle and downed half of it in one go. "You're right. I'm discarded. She doesn't love me anymore."
It sounded devastatingly pathetic.
"And whose fault is that?" Darian finally fired back. The usually gentle man, who hated rubbing salt in wounds, went straight for the jugular.
Seeing Fairfax wince, Caden chimed in. "He's right. Whose fault is it?"
He had intended to comfort Fairfax tonight, but honestly, what was the point? Since Fairfax was finally admitting his mistakes, they might as well drill the lesson home.
Fairfax stayed silent.
"Starla treated you like gold in the beginning," Darian pointed out mercilessly. "When you were working insane hours at the office, she knew you had stomach issues and brought you homemade lunches every day."
"Exactly," Caden agreed. "Everyone in the Yelchin family knew about your stomach ulcers, but I didn't see your mother or Brinley making you any soup."
"Starla practically nursed your stomach back to health, didn't she? And now you're thrashing it again," Darian said.
"Well, when you drink yourself into the hospital this time, she won't be there to take care of you," Caden added.
Every word was a dagger to the chest.
Remembering all the quiet, loving ways Starla used to care for him made Fairfax feel like he was bleeding out on the floor. The suffocating pain was unbearable.
"If I recall correctly, your mother was making her life a living hell back when you guys still lived at the estate," Caden noted.
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