Chapter 2

Liliana clutched the stranger’s hand while silent tears rolled down her cheeks. They were in the elevator, riding toward the hotel’s rooftop because—of all places—that was the only refuge the young man could think of.

The doors opened. Liliana was still sobbing when they reached the windy deck, but she let him guide her across the gravel until they stood at the rail, the glittering city spread beneath them like a wounded galaxy.

“Liliana.”

She lifted her swollen eyes to the hotel attendant standing beside her. He drew a handkerchief from his pocket, removed her reading glasses with gentle fingers, and dabbed the tears from her face.

“Don’t cry,” he said softly. “He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

“I love him,” Liliana whispered, voice breaking. “I really love him. He’s my life. I gave him everything he needed—everything except my virginity, because I wanted to save that for our wedding night.”

For three years Gerald had shown her what she thought was love, and she still could not grasp how he could betray her with her own best friend.

The stranger’s eyes searched hers. “Are you sure what he gave you was love?”

Liliana froze. Memories flashed: days without calls, anniversaries ignored, work and friends always more important than her. New tears slid down, harsher than the last.

“I… I think it wasn’t,” she admitted.

“Let it out,” he urged. “Cry it all out, and never let that man back into your life. You deserve better.”

His palm cupped her damp cheek. She drew a shaky breath. “Thank you. May I know your name?”

Her gaze dropped to his name tag. “Your name is Fernando?”

The young man glanced down, flustered. “That’s not my real—”

Liliana cut him off. She wanted to forget Gerald, so the only cure she could picture was the one she had seen others use: alcohol.

“Fernando… I should call you Fern,” she decided.

“Eh?”

“Fern, I want to drink.”

The stranger blinked in disbelief at the nickname that had suddenly become his. He sighed.

“Acceptance is the answer to your problems—not drinking.”

“Everyone I know drinks when they’re hurt. Some even get addicted—they drink every night to make the pain disappear.”

Fern walked to the low steel ledge, leaned his elbows there, and stared at the purple-black sky. Liliana stepped beside him.

“People aren’t addicted to alcohol,” he said quietly. “They’re addicted to escaping reality.”

His words struck her like truth-arrows. Escape—that was exactly what she craved.

“Liliana,” Fern went on, “if you don’t face the problem, the problem will come and face you.”

She tipped her head back, letting the night wind dry her cheeks. “You’re right.”

Fern watched her as understanding dawned in her eyes. Then he spoke one word. “Shout.”

Liliana blinked. “What?”

“Shout out the pain in your chest.”

She looked around. They were completely alone up here.

“No one will hear us but the stars,” Fern promised. “Scream it out.”

Liliana drew a deep breath—and screamed. “You bastard, Gerald! You and Mirabelle! I’ll never forgive you! Rot together, you snakes!”

“More,” Fern encouraged.

“I gave you everything—worked myself to exhaustion to keep you happy—and this is what I get? Damn it, I’ll make you regret it!”

Her voice broke into sobs. Fern sighed, let her shout until her throat was raw, then spoke gently.

“You still want that drink?”

Liliana nodded hard. “I want to drink until I fall asleep. I want to forget everything—right now.”

Fern studied her face, then nodded back. “Do you trust me?”

Liliana looked into his steady dark eyes. Strangely, she did. She felt safe in a way she couldn’t explain.

“If you don’t,” he added, “I understand. I can take you home instead.”

Something pinched inside her at the thought of facing the empty house—or worse, of finding Gerald there. She grabbed Fern’s hand before he could step away.

“Please,” she begged, “come with me. Gerald might be at my place. And… you’re my savior tonight. I’ll pay for everything. Just let’s go to a bar.”

Fern turned, stepped close enough that Liliana’s back hit the steel rail. Her heart thumped.

“Are you like this with other men?” he asked softly.

Liliana shook her head fast. “I’m sorry—I just can’t go alone. I’ve never been in a bar. Gerald never let—”

“Fine,” Fern cut her off. “Don’t mention that man again.”

He stepped back and offered his hand with solemn courtesy. “Shall we?”

Liliana managed a tiny smile, placed her hand in his, and whispered, “I’ll leave myself in your care.”

They rode the elevator down. Liliana hadn’t realized the hotel had a stylish lounge in the basement until neon lights strobed across their faces. Music thumped; dancers twirled; glasses clinked. Fern steered her to an empty table.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Something hard,” she said, surprising herself.

Fern’s brow twitched. “Fine.”

He ordered from the bartender with practiced ease. Liliana stared at him. “Fern, you seem to know every drink. Were you a bartender, too? What other jobs do you have?”

Fern’s lips curved. “Interested in me now? Careful—you might fall for me.”

“I’m just asking,” she retorted, hot-cheeked.

“I’ve tasted every drink here,” he said simply. “I know which ones will suit you.”

When their glasses arrived, Liliana eyed the amber liquid warily. “What is this?”

“Alcohol,” Fern deadpanned.

She chuckled, then lifted the glass—but Fern stopped her hand.

“If you’re getting drunk tonight,” he said, “promise me you’ll truly let go of that bastard when the sun rises.”

Liliana swallowed, then nodded. They clinked glasses.

One drink blurred into two, three, four. Liliana’s balance swayed; Fern steadied her. She didn’t notice the empty glasses piling up until he spoke her name.

“Fern!” she hiccupped, sagging against his shoulder.

“Are you okay? I should take you home.”

Liliana looked up, eyes shining with tears and liquor. “Fern, is it true—what you said upstairs? That you accept me as I am? You’d marry me, even though I’m a nerd?”

Fresh tears spilled. “In school, and even at work, no one accepts me. They say I’m ugly.”

“Ugly?” Fern’s gaze sharpened. “Where? I see no flaw. You’re beautiful from every angle. Whoever called you ugly—I’d gladly blind them.”

Liliana’s heart skipped. Gerald had never once called her beautiful.

“And about marriage,” Fern added, lifting her hand, the silver ring glinting under club lights. “I’m serious. I’ll marry you.”

Color flared across Liliana’s cheeks; her pulse hammered. She clutched Fern’s hand to her chest.

“How about you?” he asked softly. “Will you marry me, Liliana? I’ll marry you tonight, right now, asking nothing in return.”

Liliana’s breath caught—then she flung her arms around him. Tears, laughter, relief mingled.

“I will marry you,” she whispered against his ear.

Fern’s arms circled her, steady as sunrise, while the world spun in music and light around them—two strangers bound by a silver promise, stepping across the broken shards of past love into something fearsome and new.

*****

LMCD22