AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shit.
No one even wants to attend my pity party—to hell with it.
So, I decide topatheticallyeat a food truck sandwich before heading to the closest bar to drink on my own. Like an independent woman. Not some sad bride-to-be who got cheated on.
I head inside the bar, and the dim interior welcomes me: the hanging lights, the deliberately exposed plumbing, and the red brick walls are somewhat familiar to me now. I’ve come here for three nights in a row.
Since it’s only 6:30 p.m, finding a seat in the corner of the room is easy.
The waiter smiles at me in recognition. “You alone tonight?”
I nod, trying not to feel embarrassed by the question. “Yeah, I hope you’re not going to judge me for it.”
He smiles, handing me the menu. “We all have preferences.”
I don’t bother going through the menu. “Can I… have a bottle of tequila? And some peanuts.”
This time, he raises his eyebrows at me. So much for not judging me. “Anentirebottle of tequila?”
I keep a straight face. After all, tequila is the only liquor that can knock me unconscious—enough to make me forget everything until the next morning. “Yes, please.”
“Alright,” he answers in amusement.
I huff my chest as I sit back and wait.
Whenever my mind isn’t preoccupied, my mind floats back to Larson. And the moment a phone he had—that I didn’t know existed—pinged with a notification of nude photos.
Thankfully, my order arrives quickly. Without further ado, I open the tequila and pour myself a full shot.
I couldn’t care less how I will get home tonight; that didn’t matter to me. I just need to block out the painful memories with enough alcohol.
I take my time, taking shots between chewing the peanuts on my table.
I know it’s already 8:00 p.m when the live band starts preparing the stage for their set. By now, more people have arrived at the bar.
I turn my attention to the light gold liquor before me. I’ve only finished a quarter of the bottle, even after one and a half hours. Well, I meant this night to be a long one. Go big, or… don’t go home at all.
“Welcome, everyone,” the lead singer of the band says. He briefly introduces each member and then begins strumming his guitar. He says, “Our first song isStick SeasonbyNoah Kahan.”
A song I’m not familiar with.
But the strumming and his high-pitched voice make me want to listen intently.
Halfway through the song, I realize it’s about a lover left behind after his partner changed her mind.
As the lyrics pass through my ears in a sweet, sorrowful melody, I begin to cry.
I realize quite a few people are looking my way in either confusion or ridicule, but I just have to let it out. I just have to keep letting it all out until there’s nothing left for me to cry about.
My crying ends as soon as the song ends.
I take a napkin and blow my nose, collecting myself and pouring another shot.
After two more songs, it’s like nothing even happened. I continue to drink, eat peanuts, and sing with the band. During their break, I grab my phone, ignoring Clara’s message. Then, I find myself scrolling through my phone’s gallery, where mine and Larson’s photos are still saved.
Looking at the most recent one, taken less than a month ago, we look happy at the cake testing. Larson with icing on top of his nose, and me laughing with my entire face. Genuine.
With my thumb, I play with the engagement ring still on my finger. For some reason, it’s the only thing keeping me connected to Larson. Regardless.
