Page 91 of The Girl I Once Loved

The bartender reaches across the bar and places a gentle hand on my shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort. "It's never too late," she says, her voice tender. "Life has a funny way of bringing people back together when the time is right."

She goes to help another patron, leaving me with her words dancing around in my head.

As the minutes tick by, I continue to nurse my whiskey, the amber liquid providing a temporary escape from the torment of my thoughts. The bartender comes back and is currently trying to cajole me into drinking some water.

I’m having none of it though.

"Why'd he do it?" I slur, my words heavy with frustration. "Why did he let me go?"

She leans in closer, her voice gentle. "Sometimes, people make choices they believe are for the best, even if it hurts them in the process."

My head spins with a mixture of alcohol and emotion, and I slam my glass down onto the bar. "But it wasn't his choice to make!" I protest, my voice rising. "He had no right to decide what was best for me."

The bartender sighs, as if she'd heard this story a hundred times before. "Love can be messy," she admits. "Sometimes, people do things they think will protect the ones they care about, even if it means sacrificing their own happiness."

I shake my head vehemently, the tears returning with a vengeance. "I didn't want his sacrifice," I say, my voice cracking. "I wanted him."

She reaches for the bottle of whiskey and pours me another drink, her movements slow and deliberate. "You loved him that much, huh?" she asks softly.

I nod, my throat constricting with the overwhelming weight of my emotions. "More than anything."

The bartender sighs again, and for a moment, there is a look of sadness in her eyes. "You know, sometimes it's easier to hate someone than to admit you still love them," she tells me, her words a painful reminder of the turmoil within me.

I swirl the whiskey in my glass, my vision blurred by the tears that refuse to stop. "I wish I could hate him," I whisper. "It would make all of this so much easier."

She rests a hand on my shoulder, her touch a comforting anchor in the sea of despair. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," she tells me. "Just take it one day at a time."

But I can’t help but feel like I’m drowning in a sea of regret and heartache, the weight of my past mistakes and lost love pressing down on me with every passing second. The bartender's words are a lifeline, but I’m not sure I have the strength to hold on.

As the night wears on, I continue to drink, each sip of whiskey fueling my inner turmoil. I ramble on, my words a tangled mess of love and pain, longing and despair. The bartender listens patiently, offering me small words of comfort and understanding.

"Maybe you'll find your way back to each other someday," she says, her voice filled with a quiet hope that I can barely hear over the cacophony of my own thoughts.

I continue to drown myself in whiskey. Each sip burns like liquid fire, searing away the pain and regret that has taken root in my heart. I don’t notice the time passing, lost in the haze of alcohol and misery.

But then, a voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts, pulling me back to reality. "Time to go home, little stalker."

I blink, my vision clearing just enough to see Noah standing beside me. His presence is like a shock to my system, and for a moment, I can’t find my words.

Noah's eyes are filled with concern as he looks down at me. "Come on, Sky. Let’s get you home, baby."

I can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes my lips. "Why?" I slur, my words heavy with the weight of my pain. "It's not like there's anything waiting for me at home."

Noah's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently cup my cheek. "I'm your home, Sky," he says softly. "And I always will be."

Tears well up in my eyes as I look up at him, the pain in my chest threatening to swallow me whole. "You shouldn't be," I whisper. "You should hate me."

He shakes his head, his thumb brushing away a tear that has spilled onto my cheek. "I could never hate you, Sky. That would be like hating the best part of my heart."

I lean into his touch, unable to resist the comfort and familiarity of his presence. "You're so pretty," I mumble, my words barely coherent.

Noah chuckles, a warm and affectionate sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "And you're still the most beautiful girl I've ever met," he replies.

The bartender, who has been watching our exchange with a knowing smile, speaks up. "You take care of her, you hear me?" she says, her tone firm but kind. "She's had a rough night."

Noah nods, his gaze never leaving mine. "Always," he replies.

With his help, I manage to stand, though my legs feel like jelly. Noah flings my arm over his shoulder, supporting me as we make our way out of the bar.

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