The third glass, the fourth, and then the fifth. The dense crimson liquid had completely seized Alex’s bloodstream, blurring his vision and dragging his remaining sanity beneath the violent current of alcohol. The dull thud of the bass from the lower floors vibrated faintly, drowned out by the roaring midnight rain and the agonizing rhythm of his own heartbeat.
Alex fished through his tuxedo pocket, searching for his phone with a heavily trembling hand. He stared down at the blinding screen, hunting for the single name he had systematically deleted countless times, yet whose numbers remained permanently branded into his memory.
Two o’clock in the morning.
Without wasting a single thought on his pride or his legal status as a newlywed groom, Alex violently pressed the call button.
Ring.
