Chapter one
The night crept in with an unexpected chill, casting a mist over the city’s skyline as Damien scrolled through his phone.
The clock struck midnight, all the same, no response. His fiancée, Gina, had been away for months, working overseas.
They’d grown familiar with the distance, to the random messages, the occasional video calls that somehow made them feel like they were in the same room.
But tonight was different. His calls went unanswered, his texts read but without reply.
Anxiety constricted in his chest. He scrolled through their last conversation, her smiling face staring back at him in their old messages.
Has something happened? Was she pulling away? The distance was supposed to be temporary, but lately, it felt like a widening chasm that neither could cross. His mind wrapped with possibilities, each worse than the last.
Unable to bear the silence, he grabbed his coat and keys. Maybe he just needed a distraction.
The city streets, loud and insensitive, beckoned him as he drove through the night.
In due time, the neon sign of a dimly lit bar appeared, positioned between skyscrapers like a secret. He parked the car and headed inside.
The bar was modest, scarcely filled, the low hum of conversation blending with the soft jazz playing overhead. Damien ordered a bottle of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the glass as he lifted it to his lips. It was strong, just what he needed to slow down the uncertainty eroding at him.
His gaze moved, scanning the room, until it settled on someone.
In a corner compartment half-hidden in shadow, sat a woman. Her posture was slumped, her fingers tracing the edge of her untouched drink. There was something about her, an air of sadness that mirrored his own distress. She seemed out of place, like she didn’t belong in this world of unstable laughter and temporary solace. She was alone, and so was he.
Without fully thinking it through, Damien grabbed his glass of whiskey and walked over. “ Do you mind if I sit?”
The woman looked up, shocked at first, but then saw the quiet sincerity in his eyes, she nodded. He slid into the compartment across from her, the silence extending between them.
“ Are you having a bad night?” he asked gently.
She hesitated, her eyes glancing down at the drink again before she spoke. “ Yeah, something like that, I guess. How about you?”
He nodded, lifting his glass slightly in a quiet toast. “ Well, I guess we’re in the same boat.”
They sat for a moment, the weight of their individual troubles hanging in the air between them. Damien wasn’t sure why he was drawn to her, but there was a kind of vulnerability in the way she held herself, as though she were on the brink of breaking but refused to let anyone see.
“I’m Damien,” he said, breaking the silence.
The woman gave him a slight, fleeting smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Blaire.” she said,
“It's nice to meet you, Blaire.” He took a sip of his drink, feeling the warmth of the alcohol seep into his veins. “You look like you could use someone to talk to. I'm here,”
She sneered lightly, the sound bitter and soft.
“And what makes you think I'd talk to a stranger in a bar?”
“That's right, I don’t know why anyone would do that,” Damien shrugged, leaning back in his seat, “but it could be because sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you’ll never see again. You don't have expectations or judgments.”
Blaire studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to decide whether he was being sincere. Something about his calm attitude, his open gaze, made her relax, just a little.
“Fair point, I guess you're right” she murmured, and for the first time since they sat together, she picked up her glass and took a sip.
“Did you have a rough day?” he asked, his voice low, almost soothing.
Blaire let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging further.
“You could say that.” She muttered, "Life has a way of hitting you all at once, you know?”
He nodded. “I understand. It can be like that sometimes.”
She looked up at him, shift her gaze to her drink and then turned to really looked at him, her brow furrowing. “Do you? You don’t exactly strike me as someone who’d have a hard time with anything. No offence.”
Damien chuckled softly, the sound a little hollow. “Looks can be deceiving.”
The words lingered between them, heavy with unspoken truths. She didn’t press, and he was grateful for that. Instead, they sat in a comfortable silence, sharing the quiet in a way that felt strangely intimate.
Minutes passed, the buzz of the bar fading into the background as they talked about everything and nothing at all. He lied to her that he had a misunderstanding with his best friend, at first, about a betrayal and lack of communication, and the emotions were beginning to weigh on him. Blaire listened, her own expression softening as she sipped her drink.
“You ever wonder if people grow apart because they’re meant to?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Damien frowned, her question striking something deep within him. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, hadn’t wanted to admit that maybe, just maybe, the distance between him and Gina was more than physical. “I don’t know,” he said confused. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just hard to hold on to something when you’re miles apart.”
Blaire nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass again. “Yeah. It’s hard to hold on to things when they feel like they’re slipping away.”
