Alexander POV.
The bar was a bit dark, a haze of cigarette smoke curling toward the ceiling as I sat at the farthest corner, drowning in my seventh bottle of beer. The clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the occasional laugh, it all faded into the background, replaced by one image in my head: Christiana in Daniel’s arms.
I laughed. A hollow, bitter sound that escaped my throat without warning. Heads turned in my direction, people stared, but I didn’t care. Let them look. Let them see the broken, pathetic man I’d become.
“Cheers to that,” I muttered, raising my bottle to no one in particular before taking another swig. The burn of alcohol in my throat did nothing to dull the ache in my chest. Nothing could.
I slammed the bottle down on the counter, shaking my head as I laughed again. Louder this time. “Of course, she’s moved on. Of course.” The words tumbled out between bouts of laughter, my voice strained and tinged with something close to madness. A few people nearby exchanged glances, probably wondering if I’d lost my damn mind. Maybe I had.
It was all a joke, wasn’t it? The woman I loved…no, the woman I still loved…had moved on. She had found comfort in another man’s arms, and I was stuck here, unable to let her go.
“Sir?” The voice cut through my drunken haze, and I turned slowly to see James standing there, his face full of concern.
I blinked at him, trying to focus, but everything was blurry. “James,” I said, grinning like a fool. “You’re just in time for the party?”
He glanced at the bottles on the counter, his brow furrowing in disapproval. “Mr. Alistair, you’ve had enough. We need to leave.”
I waved him off, laughing again. “Leave? Why would I leave? This is the perfect place. Right here, with my best friend…” I held up the bottle, smirking at it…“and my shattered pride.”
James sighed, stepping closer. “I’ve found more information on Bianca Monroe Lewis. She’s been…”
I cut him off with a sharp laugh. “Bianca? You think I care about Bianca right now?!” I slammed the bottle down on the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. A few people turned to look, but I didn’t care. “Forget her, forget all of it.”
James looked at me like I’d lost and maybe I had.
tried
again.
, We
need
to
artender. “I’ll tell you when I’ve had
C
focus. You’ve had too much to drink.”
(oo much. Another round.”
“Too much?” I scoffed, gesturing for the
The bartender hesitated, glancing at James for approval, but I waved him over. “Don’t look at him. I’m the one paying you, aren’t I?”
“Mr. Alistair, you need to stop,” James insisted, grabbing my arm as the bartender reluctantly set another bottle in front of
me.
I yanked my arm free, my voice rising. “Stop? You don’t get it, James. None of this matters anymore.” I leaned back in my chair, eyes unfocused as the alcohol seeped deeper into my veins. “You know what’s funny?” I asked, my voice slurring slightly. “I thought I had time. I thought… I thought she’d wait. I thought…”
I trailed off, my mind spinning, the images of Christiana and Daniel flooding my thoughts again. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block them out, but they wouldn’t go away.
voice barely audible
She’s gone,” I whispered, my now. “She’s moved on, And I… I can’t.” I looked at James, my eyes bloodshot and filled with a pain I couldn’t hide anymore. “I’m stuck, man. Stuck in this endless loop, and I can’t get out.”
James watched me carefully, his expression softening. “Sir… it’s not too late. You can…”
1/2
15:16 wed,
Chapter 108
23
D
༣༥༢ 29%–
ก
“She’s gone,” I repeated, my yoice breaking. “I’ve lost her. And it’s my fault. I’ve been a fool, James. A damn fool.”
I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at it in frustration as my emotions poured out. “Five years. Five years after pushing her away, I thought I was doing the right thin and when I realized that I was a fool, an insensitive bastard all along, it was too late. And now look at me. Look at me!” I laughed again, but it was bitter, hollow. “She’s with him. I saw it. And she’s happy.”
James didn’t say anything for a moment, his hand resting on my shoulder as if to offer some kind of comfort. “You don’t know that for sure. Maybe…”
“I know,” I muttered, taking another drink. “I saw the way she looked at him. She never looked at me like that. Never.”
James opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, the door to the bar swung open, and I froze.
Standing there, still in her work clothes, was Christiana.
I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but there was no mistaking it. It was her. She was here.
Even through the fog of alcohol, my heart skipped a beat.
“Christiana?” Her name slipped from my lips, barely more than a whisper.
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. She was here. After everything, after all the alcohol, after all the pain…she was here.
