Chapter 2

The excitement in the pub slowly settled after the bartender's announcement, though people continued talking about the stranger who had decided to pay everyone's bill, speculating in hushed, delighted tones about who it could have been.

I found myself smiling at the commotion despite everything.

It was strange. A few hours earlier, I had been standing outside my husband's house in the rain with nothing but a handbag, wondering where I would sleep. Now I was sitting at a bar with a glass of whiskey in front of me, surrounded by strangers who had no idea that my entire life had fallen apart in the space of a single conversation.

Maybe that was why I had chosen this place. Nobody knew me here. Nobody knew my husband. Nobody knew that I had spent three years trying to become a mother and had somehow failed to become the wife Marcus wanted.

For tonight, I could simply be Gloria.

I lifted my glass to my lips.

"You're drinking that like it personally offended you."

I turned toward the man beside me. Adriel. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he looked at my glass.

"Maybe it did," I replied.

He laughed softly, the sound low and easy.

"You're blaming the whiskey for whatever happened tonight?"

"I'm considering it."

"That seems unfair."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you defending my drink?"

"I'm defending innocent whiskey."

I laughed before I could stop myself, the sound catching me off guard.

His smile widened.

"There," he said.

"What?"

"You smiled."

I rolled my eyes, though I could feel the warmth still lingering on my face.

"So?"

"I was beginning to wonder if you knew how."

"You talk too much."

"And you drink too much."

I glanced at the glasses lined up in front of me.

"How many have I had?"

He counted them with his eyes, unhurried.

"Four."

My eyes widened.

"Four?"

He nodded.

I stared at the glasses as if they might rearrange themselves into a smaller number.

"I thought it was two."

"That explains a lot."

I laughed again. It surprised me. I hadn't expected to laugh tonight, not after everything that had happened, yet somehow a stranger had managed to make me smile within minutes of sitting beside me.

I turned toward him.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You've been drinking too."

He looked at the glass in his hand, turning it slightly.

"I'm trying to forget something."

"What?"

He hesitated, and for a moment I thought he might change the subject. Then he sighed.

"My girlfriend cheated on me."

The smile disappeared from my face.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged, though the gesture looked heavier than he probably intended it to.

"I'll survive."

There was something in the way he said it that told me he wasn't as unaffected as he wanted to appear.

"How long were you together?"

"Almost two years."

I nodded slowly.

"That must hurt."

"It does."

He stared at his drink for a long moment.

"I was going to propose to her tonight."

My eyes widened.

"You were?"

He nodded.

"I had everything planned."

I couldn't help feeling sorry for him, this stranger who had walked into the same pub carrying his own version of the night I'd just had.

"So what happened?"

He was quiet for a moment, gathering the words.

"I found out she was seeing someone else."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He gave a humorless smile. "She made her choice."

I studied him, the tightness around his eyes, the way his jaw flexed slightly when he wasn't speaking.

"You loved her?"

"Yes."

There was no hesitation in his answer, and somehow that honesty made the whole thing sadder.

I understood that kind of pain. I looked down at my wedding ring, twisting it slightly without meaning to.

He noticed.

"You're married."

I touched the ring unconsciously, the metal cool against my finger.

"I was."

His expression changed, sharpening with interest and something gentler underneath it.

"What happened?"

I took a slow breath, steadying myself before I said it out loud for the first time.

"My husband threw me out tonight."

He turned toward me fully.

"What?"

"He told me to leave."

"Why?"

I stared at the whiskey in my hand, watching the light move through it.

"Because I couldn't give him a child."

His face hardened.

"He threw you out because you couldn't get pregnant?"

I nodded.

"After three years."

He shook his head slowly, disbelief and anger mixing in his expression.

"That is cruel."

I gave a bitter laugh.

"He told me I had nothing to show for the marriage."

Adriel's jaw tightened.

"What kind of man says that to his wife?"

"The kind who doesn't want her anymore."

He looked at me, his eyes steady.

"He doesn't deserve you."

I swallowed.

"You don't even know me."

"I know enough."

His voice was quiet, certain in a way that caught me off guard.

I looked away, unable to hold his gaze for a moment.

"He told me everything in the house belonged to him because he had paid for it. He wouldn't let me take my clothes."

Adriel glanced at the small handbag beside me, and something shifted in his expression.

"You left with that?"

I nodded.

"For three years, that house was my home."

My voice broke slightly.

"Tonight, I left with one handbag."

He was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I'm sorry."

I looked at him.

"Thank you."

Neither of us spoke for a while, the silence settling comfortably between us rather than pressing down on it.

Then he lifted his glass.

"To the people who hurt us."

I raised mine.

"To the people who hurt us."

Our glasses touched, the small clink swallowed by the noise of the pub around us. We drank, and the alcohol warmed my chest, dulling the sharp pain that had been sitting there since Marcus told me to leave.

Adriel leaned back against the bar.

"You know what's strange?"

"What?"

"We're sitting here because two people betrayed us."

I smiled faintly.

"And we don't even know each other."

"Exactly."

"Maybe that's why it's easier."

He turned toward me, curious now.

"Why?"

"Because you don't know me." I traced a finger around the rim of my glass, watching the liquid catch the light. "I can tell you things tonight that I'd never tell someone who knows me. Tomorrow, we could walk away and never see each other again."

He thought about that for a moment.

"Maybe."

I looked at him.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Why did you come here?"

He gave a small smile, almost private.

"For the same reason you did."

"To forget?"

"To be somewhere nobody knows me."

I studied him, tilting my head slightly.

"Why wouldn't you want people to know you?"

He looked at his drink instead of at me.

"Because sometimes people treat you differently when they know certain things about you."

I frowned.

"What things?"

He hesitated, the pause stretching just long enough to feel deliberate.

"My family."

"What about them?"

"They have money."

I waited for him to continue. He didn't.

"How much?"

He smiled, the sadness in his eyes briefly giving way to something more amused.

"Enough."

I laughed.

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting tonight."

I shook my head.

"Fine."

He took another drink.

"I've never liked telling women about my family's money."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know if someone likes me for me."

I understood what he meant, more than I expected to.

"So your girlfriend didn't know?"

"Not everything."

I looked at him.

"You hid your wealth from her?"

"I didn't lie to her. I just didn't tell her everything."

"Why?"

He looked at me for a moment, weighing something.

"Because the moment people hear certain names, they start seeing you differently."

I nodded slowly. That made sense, in its own quiet, guarded way.

"Maybe she wasn't with you for the money."

"Maybe."

"You don't know that."

"No." He looked down at the bar. "But I know she was seeing another man."

I didn't know what to say. He had a point, and there wasn't much comfort I could offer against it.

For a moment, we were both silent.

Then I asked, "So what did you tell her you did?"

"I told her I worked for a company."

I smiled.

"You're technically telling the truth."

"Exactly."

"What company?"

He smiled, the expression turning playful.

"You're very curious."

"I'm just asking."

"Maybe I'll tell you another day."

I laughed.

"Another day?"

He shrugged.

"Who knows?"

I looked at him. Something about that answer made me smile, though I couldn't quite explain why. Maybe he was right. Who knew? Perhaps we would never see each other again after tonight. Perhaps tomorrow morning, this would all become nothing more than a strange memory, a story I'd barely believe myself.

The thought should have made me feel relieved.

Instead, I found myself strangely disappointed.

We continued talking. Not about our heartbreak this time, but about little things. He asked what kind of food I liked, and I told him I could eat pasta every day without getting tired of it. He laughed and told me that explained why I looked like someone who could survive entirely on carbohydrates. I called him rude. He said I was smiling again. I denied it. He insisted.

Before long, I was laughing. Really laughing. I hadn't realized how much I needed it.

Adriel seemed to notice the change in me.

"You look different when you smile."

I looked at him.

"How?"

"Happier."

The word made me quiet. I couldn't remember the last time someone had described me that way, without qualification, without comparing me to some version of myself that no longer existed.

"Maybe I needed tonight," I said.

"Maybe I did too."

Our eyes met, and there was a softness in his expression now, something that hadn't been there when we first sat beside each other as two strangers nursing separate wounds.

I looked down at my glass.

"You have sad eyes."

He laughed.

"That's a strange thing to say."

"It's true."

"You have sad eyes too."

"I don't."

"You do."

I shook my head.

"No."

He leaned slightly closer.

"Yes."

I looked up. Our eyes locked, and the noise around us seemed to fade into something distant and unimportant. I became aware of how close he was ,the warmth radiating from his body, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his eyes moved from mine to my lips and back again, slow and deliberate.

My heart began beating faster.

Adriel leaned closer. Slowly. He gave me enough time to move away.

I didn't.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

I should have. Instead, I whispered, "Don't."

His lips met mine. The kiss was soft at first, almost uncertain, as though he too was giving me one last chance to pull back. Then I closed my eyes and kissed him back, and for those few seconds, Marcus disappeared from my mind. The house disappeared. The rain disappeared. All I could feel was Adriel.

His hand gently found mine, and I held on.

When we pulled apart, neither of us spoke. I could hear my own heartbeat, loud and unfamiliar in my ears.

Adriel looked at me.

"Gloria…"

"Don't."

He nodded, understanding without needing more.

I didn't want words. Words would make it real, and tonight, I didn't want reality. I wanted this moment, and nothing beyond it.

We stayed there for a while, our hands still intertwined. Eventually, the bartender approached.

"Last drinks."

I glanced around. The pub had become much quieter. Most of the tables were empty now, chairs pushed in, the earlier celebration fading into the ordinary hush of closing time. I looked at the clock. It was much later than I had realized.

Adriel looked at me.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

I hesitated.

"No."

His expression softened.

"Neither do I."

A small laugh escaped me.

"That sounds convenient."

"Very."

I picked up my handbag. For a moment, I wondered what I was doing. I had met this man only hours ago. I didn't know his full story. I didn't even know how much of what he had told me was true.

But I knew one thing. I felt safe with him. And tonight, that was enough.

Adriel stood and held out his hand. I looked at it, then placed mine in his. His fingers closed gently around mine, and we walked toward the exit together.

Neither of us knew what tomorrow would bring. For tonight, we didn't care,we just wanted to get lost in each other's body.