CROSS'S POV
The bar was dimly lit, with the low murmur of conversation filling the air, accompanied by the occasional clink of ice cubes and glasses. Cross sat at the bar, his elbows resting on the worn wooden surface, staring at his half-empty glass.
The amber liquid swirled slowly as he swirled it, his mind racing in every direction except where he needed it to go. His thoughts kept circling back to the same thing: he had made a choice that felt impossible to take back.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Grey's voice broke through the fog in his mind. Cross glanced up at his friend, who slid onto the stool next to him.
Grey took in his appearance, the unshaven face, the dark circles under his eyes, and the defeated slump in his posture. "I thought you'd be celebrating by now. Thought
