Anthony and Henry were both yelling at him, it felt like. Or maybe it was the huge headache he was getting from the booze. "This was cheap liquor, wasn't it?" It came out slurred as he shook the hand that had managed to connect with Henry's face.
"Damn it, you've got a hard head," Charles muttered to himself. It shouldn't matter, Anthony said. Right. It shouldn't. But there was still a bit of jealousy that ran through him that his future wife had fucked his best friend. "How was she, Henry?" He sneered, eyes shut. "Might as well compare notes now and get it over with."
If she loved him, she would have told him was Charles' reasoning. But then something Anthony said hit home and Charles stood, a bit shakily. "Painful...? Painful memory?" He glared at Henry, who denied it.