Chapter Two: The encounter.
1120 Words
Anne’s POV
Pain was not a stranger to me; I had become quite accustomed to it over time, with the death of my parents, Grandma's detoriating health and loss of our company.
Yet this particular feeling, a poignant ache was unlike anything I had encountered before, leaving me puzzled as to why it stung my heart so deeply.
After a short walk down the street, I hailed a taxi. The cold was biting and I needed the warmth.
The taxi came to a stop before an aging apartment building.
A resigned smile flickered across my lips as I stepped out onto the pavement.
This place belonged to my grandmother, who was currently battling cancer and receiving treatment in the hospital.
I found myself facing the harsh reality of life when i stepped into the apartment. In this solitude, I found myself completely alone in the world.
In an effort to push away thoughts of my family and the troubles we were facing, I sat on the cold, hard floor of the apartment, bawling my eyes out.
There, I felt a profound sense of isolation enveloping me like a thick, heavy blanket, as I sank deeper into my own thoughts, drifting away from the world and into a realm where my heartache could be momentarily forgotten.
I wasn't sure how long I sat there, but I was feeling tired and I needed a change of scenery.
I remembered the bar down the street that Grandma always talked about.
Whenever I paid a visit to her, she would often mention a bar located just down the street from her house.
She used to describe it as a peaceful and quiet place where individuals could go to soothe their troubled minds whenever they were feeling anxious or upset.
"Grandma, you just miss the drinks", I would tease her.
"I hope you won't visit it behind my back", she would tease back.
"Oh! Grandma you know I don't have time for that".
"You should make time to live a little, don't deny yourself of life" she said, cupping my hands, and with a tint of guilt in her eyes.
Looking back on that day, I decided to take her advice.
I got off the floor and dusted my jeans. It wasn’t neat but I'd care less.
I glanced at the divorce papers on the center table, and my resolve became stronger.
I grabbed my small bag, which held my phone, and the only thing i left the house with, and prepared myself for a little adventure.
With excitement and curiosity bubbling inside me, I stepped outside, feeling the anticipation of what I might discover at that calm bar my grandmother had told me about.
****************
As I stepped into the bar house, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, as the atmosphere was just as calm and inviting as my Grandma had described.
It smelled of candle wax and oakwood. It was soothing.
The space was not crowded at all, which I found to be quite lovely and refreshing, making it easier for me to settle in.
I walked over to a quiet corner of the establishment where I could enjoy some peace and ordered a bottle of whiskey.
Although I usually didn't drink a lot of alcohol, I felt a strong urge to have some tonight, perhaps due to everything that had been going on or I needed the strength to sign those damn papers.
I poured myself some shots as soon as the bottle came, but I shivered a little.
Was i that nervous to drink?
As I brought the glass to my lips the second time, I noticed a pair of cold, blue eyes watching me intently from across the room.
'Did Max send someone to follow me? What a jerk!!!' I thought.
I tried to ignore the eyes and continued sipping the whiskey, letting it slide down my throat, feeling it burn as it goes down.
I was getting tipsy, my vision was getting blurry and the pair of eyes seems to be getting closer.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice cut through my haze.
“Hey, you should stop drinking; it’s clear you can’t handle alcohol,” the voice said, his tone firm.
Initially, I brushed off his comment with a simple shrug, deciding to go on with my drink instead.
But then, he made an attempt to take the drink from me, leading to a bit of a struggle.
In the chaos, the whiskey splashed all over my shirt, getting it wet and sticky.
I shot him an annoyed glare because of the mess he had caused.
In my frustration and drunken state, I decided to take off my top there in the centre of the bar, but on impulse, he lifted me on his shoulders and carried me out.
I kicked and struggled, scared out of my mind that Max was out to kill me.
I was being kidnapped and I was too drunk to fight for myself. Why did I listen to grandma.
The man was a walking brick, none of my kicks got to him.
"Put me down! Did Max send you? Did he want the divorce so bad that he had to kidnap me to sign it?" I was ranting.
"You're too loud for a lady" was all the response I got from my billion questions.
"What?!"
"Who wouldn’t be loud when they are being kidnapped?"
He suddenly put me down in the restroom, and I realised i was being paranoid for nothing.
I felt a little embarrassed.
"Clean up, I will be outside" he said.
I nodded and moved to take my top off when I staggered into him. He swiftly caught me before i could reach the ground.
I was so wrapped up in the moment, I noticed his Adam's apple briefly bob as he tried to maintain his composure.
I smiled.
In some strange way, I seemed to be provoking him without even realizing it. He steadied me on my feet and, Just when he turned to leave, I firmly grasped his wrist, pulling him back to face me.
I could feel him freeze. Then I seized the moment to see how long he could hold it in.
I took my shirt off without warning.
He was fixed, instead of looking me in the eyes, his gaze was lingering on my exposed body, which made me feel both flattered and embarrassed.
“Help me wash my top, naughty boy", I said seductively, eyeing him, but instead of responding to my request, his lips crashed onto mine, sending unexpected shivers down my spine.
What happened next was a haze. But I was sure I am ready to sign those papers by morning.
- Writer
