Evelyn's POV
I tried to stand, but holy f**k—I was drunk as hell. My legs wobbled under me, and before I could steady myself, I landed right back on the barstool.
For a moment, I just sat there, blinking at the glass in front of me. Everything spun, but not fast enough to blur the ache in my chest. It was his fault. All of it.
Nathan.
Why would he leave me for seven years? Why make me believe he was dead? Why come back now—when I've already chained myself to someone I don't love?
"Why?" I whispered to the bartender, who was cleaning a glass, clearly unsure what to do with the drunken woman in front of him.
He glanced up, clearly confused. "Sorry, ma'am?"
"Does it make any sense?" I asked, leaning in like we were sharing some great secret.
He blinked at me.
"Ans
