Walking into the bar, my best friend Bianca McHugh took one look at me and immediately knew something was wrong. She put an arm around me and led me to a quiet corner table.
"I can't believe Terrell could cheat on you," she shook her head. "And with Irene, of all people... Your stepcousin, are you serious?"
I shrugged, feeling the weight of disappointment and betrayal on my shoulders. "I never expected it either, Bianca. Terrell and I had been together for so long, I thought I knew him better than that. And Irene... well, I always knew she was the manipulative type, but I never thought she'd stoop this low."
Bianca gave me a sympathetic smile and patted my hand.
"Come on, let's have some drinks," she said. "It'll help take the edge off."
We both ordered a couple of drinks, the alcohol helping to numb the pain and shock a bit as we sat there talking.
Bianca eyed the tequila skeptically. "Are you sure you want to drink so much tequila?"
I met her gaze, desperation in my eyes.
"I just want to get drunk right now," I said quietly.
Bianca's expression changed to one of understanding.
"I know you're devastated, Leslie," she sympathized. "You and Terrell have been together for years, so I understand the pain. I get that you're hurting, Les, but there's no point in torturing yourself over Terrell and Irene."
She leaned closer, her eyes locked on mine. "You deserve better than someone who would cheat on you with your own stepcousin. You can't waste your time and energy on someone who isn't worth it."
I took another deep breath, feeling the weight of my emotions suffocating me.
"I just don't know how to deal with this," I confessed. "I just want to forget about everything for a while, and the alcohol helps numb the pain. It's the only way I know how to express my feelings right now."
"Don't drink too much," she advised.
"I'm fine," I said, taking another sip of my drink.
But Bianca wasn't convinced.
"I know they're wrong for what they did," she sympathized. "But your mother would be worried if you came home drunk."
I knew she was right, but in that moment, I didn't care. The pain was so intense, I just wanted to numb it.
"Everything fell apart today," I said, my voice breaking as tears streamed down my face. "A five-year relationship shattered because of their deceit. No one defended me except my mother."
Bianca listened intently, her own eyes full of sadness and anger.
She reached out and put an arm around me, her voice filled with empathy. "I'm so sorry, Les. You didn't deserve any of this. They treated you horribly. But I’m confused about why they treated you like that?”
I was speechless for a moment, but then shook my head slowly.
Bianca continued, "I know there are 7 billion people on this planet, Les. You deserve someone better than Terrell. And you know what? I have a friend who's single. He's really awesome. Maybe I can introduce you to him?"
“So, who are these guys?” I asked, my head swimming with the effects of the alcohol. Bianca responded with a sly smile.
“I know some single people. One of them is even a widower, but he's genuinely nice.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her suggestion. “A widower? Seriously? You expect me to date a man who's already buried his first wife?”
Bianca shrugged casually, her voice filled with conviction. "What's wrong with a widower? He could have all the perfect 'masculine energy' you need."
I could feel my tongue getting loose with the alcohol, and my brain-to-mouth filter was quickly vanishing.
So, when Bianca made another remark about the widower, I couldn't help but mutter, "At least he's probably more experienced in bed than Terrell."
Bianca let out a gasp, her eyes widening at my bluntness. "Oh my God, Leslie, I can't believe you just said that out loud. You’re drunk already, honey."
I tried to steady myself as a wave of dizziness hit me.
"I’m not drunk," I whispered, my words slurring slightly as the alcohol took effect.
Bianca raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You’re not drunk? You’re stumbling, your eyes are bloodshot, and you’re slurring your words. But sure, you’re not drunk."
"Just one more bottle?" I pleaded, feeling the room spin and my stomach churn. "We can head home after that, I promise."
Bianca folded her arms. "No, Les. You’re already too drunk. You’ve had enough for one night. It’s time to go home."
A woman in a revealing outfit approached us, and Bianca paid for our drinks. She left to go to the bathroom, and I stayed behind, my head spinning.
I stumbled towards the bathroom, my head feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit me, and I barely made it to the toilet before emptying my stomach.
But as I sat there, struggling to stay upright, I heard the sound of water splashing from the next stall. I tried to focus my eyesight, but everything was blurry, and I couldn't tell who was in the other stall.
The man's voice scolded, "Hey, what are you doing here? This is the men's toilet."
I stumbled as I tried to speak. "I just wanna sleep," I mumbled, my head spinning and my eyes barely able to stay open, I put my head on the toilet lid.
"You shouldn't be here," the man said gruffly, his annoyance clear. "You're in the wrong bathroom, and you're a woman. You're also clearly drunk out of your mind."
I looked up at him, my vision slightly clearer now. He had a kind face and broad shoulders, and as if mesmerized, I reached out and touched his cheek.
"Your face is like the moon," I murmured dreamily. "It's so radiant and comforting."
The man's expression changed to one of frustration when I resisted his attempts to help me. But his tone remained firm and gentle. "You can't stay here. Let me take you to the lobby."
As the man attempted to lift me up, my mind played tricks on me, and for a split second, I thought I saw Terrell standing there, smiling warmly at me.
"Please don't leave me here alone," I mumbled, my words slurred and my body swaying unsteadily.
I stumbled to my feet, leaning heavily on the man's arm as he tried to guide me towards the lobby. But the alcohol had made me clingy and emotional.
"Stay with me," I begged, my hand gripping his arm tightly. "We can live together, just the two of us."
The man's expression hardened at my words, frustration plain to see, but he kept his rage in check.
I was relentless, my grip on his arm not loosening.
"But you love me, don't you?" I insisted, my voice filled with drunken despair. "You said so yourself."
The man sighed, clearly frustrated.
"I never said that," he muttered. "You're just drunk and confused. You don't know what you're saying."
I refused to accept his words, my mind clouded by alcohol and my emotions in disarray. I clutched onto him tightly, pulling him close, and kissed him passionately, trying to convince myself that he was the one I really wanted.
Terrell pulled back abruptly, his face set in a stern expression.
"Stop," he said firmly, stepping away from me. "This isn't right, lady. You're not in your right mind right now."
I persisted, leaning closer to kiss him again, but he placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back firmly. His expression was one of pain and frustration.
"Please," I pleaded, my voice filled with desperation. "Please, just forget about Irene. We can be together, right here. Right now!"
The man let out a frustrated sigh, his patience clearly wearing thin.
"I'm not your boyfriend, and I don't even know who this Irene person is," he hissed.
But my drunkenness wouldn't let me accept reality. I persisted, gripping his arm and attempting to kiss him again.
Despite his initial resistance, the man saw that I was not going to give up. He sighed deeply, the tension in his body loosening slightly.
"Lady, you're impossibly stubborn to turn me on," he muttered, his voice tinged with resignation.
With a defeated expression, he gave in and allowed me to kiss him again, his hands lingering on my hips.
The man abruptly pushed me backwards, guiding me into an empty stall.