DAMIEN
“Damien!” Nicho called out, and my eyes swerved round the bar. I was still fixed in one spot—contemplating.
I didn’t want to agree to Nicho’s suggestion, but a huge part of me didn’t want to leave. I feared that the battle between the past and presence may collide, forcing me to deal with those thoughts I desperately wanted to forget.
It would be best if I stayed. I didn’t give Nicho the liberty of knowing that immediately. I remained frozen for a while before I dropped down on the stool.
“Fine,” I said. “I will stay.”
“Bring me a bottle of water.” Nicho sounded cheerful as he spoke to the bartender who nodded before he turned his back on us.
Moments later, the bartender handed Nicho a bottle of water. Nicho passed it to me, and I eyed him skeptically.
“Trust me, it’ll help,”
