He was pretty raw, for now at least, even the mention of her name caused him to well up. I went back downstairs, via the kitchen, topping up to my win... and fetching a beer for Steve. He was sitting with his head in his hands and his shoulders were shaking slightly. I sat beside him, put my arm around him and he leaned against my chest, obviously making a big effort to hide his tears. “Sshh, it’ll be okay, sweetie,” I cooed, stroking his hair and he sniffed and took a deep breath. “It hurts, Em.. I'll make it up to you, I promise." Butter seemed to feel some kind of obligation to explain his actions."How the hell are you going to make it up to me?" I am going to take care of things for you while you are healing up. You will be able to relax and recover because I will be there for you."It was like a nightmare from hell. "I don't want you taking care of me or anything else. Please, just get the hell out of my life." John, don't go making any rash decisions like that. Butter has already. More

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