Charles’ POV
The cool air slapped me in the face when I stepped outside. Somehow, it was supposed to make me return to reality but reality stung worse than the alcohol burning my system.
A small bar was tucked between two old buildings, its neon sign the only thing that indicated its presence.
Morgan’s bar.
When I pushed the door open, it smelled exactly the same and it made my chest tighten painfully. I slid into the booth at the far corner. It was the one I always took.
The one we always took.
A drink was placed in front of me by the bartender even before I asked.
“You haven’t been here in a while, sir,” he said.
“Yes,” I muttered. “I know.”
“I see you on the TV now,” he continued, smiling proudly. “The bottle’s on the house.”
I nodded.
“And the lady…? The one you always co
