He watched her as she sat on the bar, drinking her favorite poison. That was what she called her favored drink. She was still beautiful after all this time. He still could not believe that she was his.
Two men had approached her, offering her another drink, probably trying to get on her pants, but she ignored them. She did look vulnerable. Her eyes were still puffy from crying, and her shoulders sagged down as her eyes focused on her drink.
She kept to herself, drowning in her sorrow. She was miserable and using alcohol to make her forget. But it was just a temporary relief. It could help for a while, but once it was out of her system, she would be right back to square one.
"I'll have what she is having." He ordered, sitting on the spot next to her on the bar. He could not watch her from a distance anymore. He would join her so she would remember that she was not alone in this.
Thanks