His Tears, My Freedom (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back)
We sing off-key, curse at life, laugh at nothing and everything.
One bottle becomes two. Two becomes three. The count blurs as Alessia and I disappear into our own little world.
Soon, a strong urge hits me. “I… I need the restroom,” I mumble, my words coming out in a stutter.
I don’t even know if Alessia hears me. I just stand, my legs wobbling beneath me as I stagger away. “Restroom,” I mutter repeatedly, fumbling, pressing my hand against the wall for support.