Claiming what’s mine

Episode2

EMMA'S POV

It was as if he already knew what I was about to say.

His expression was unreadable, clouded with emotions I couldn’t quite grasp.

"Emma..." he began slowly, his voice hesitant.

A sharp pain pierced my heart and I gripped my chest hoping it would numb the pain I was feeling inside.

How many times had I longed to hear him say my name with love, with warmth?

But that moment never came. And now, it doesn’t matter.

The fragile hope I’d been desperately clinging to for the past years had finally crumbled, shattered beyond repair.

"Lucas, it's over," I said with a straight face, because it was as if he hadn't got the message the last time.

This was supposed to hurt him.

I wanted it to hurt him as much as it hurt me. But the moment I declared myself done, the moment I severed the last thread holding us together, I felt the full weight of the choice crashing down on me.

"No..." He began.

"I'm done with you," I interjected.

All his pleas fell deaf on my ears as my gaze drifted to the ring on my finger.

Wedding rings were supposed to symbolize love and devotion, but mine had become a painful reminder of betrayal by the man I loved most.

I hissed through my tears, unable to control the flood of emotions.

Without hesitation, I tore the ring off and hurled it at Lucas. He didn’t even flinch when it hit him.

"Emma, don't do this..." he pleaded, but without a word, I turned and walked away, never once looking back.

The next thing I knew, I was pushing open the heavy doors of a dimly lit bar. The smell of alcohol and smoke hit me immediately, mingling with the faint sound of low music playing in the background.

This was exactly what I needed at the moment; an escape from my cruel reality.

I needed to escape from the suffocating weight of everything that had just happened.

The betrayal, the pain. It was all too much.

Even though it was a temporary measure, I didn't care; all I wanted was to forget.

I needed a distraction.

I sluggishly made my way to the bar, sliding onto a stool with a sense of numbness creeping over me.

The bartender gave me a sympathetic glance as I sat there, my eyes still puffy and red from crying. I didn’t have to say a word.

"I need something strong," I muttered to the bartender, who eyed me like I’d sprouted a second head.

I can’t blame him. I looked like a complete mess—hair disheveled, makeup smeared—but I didn’t care.

"You’ve had a rough day, huh?" he remarked as he slid the glass toward me.

I pressed my lips together and gave a little nod.

"Yeah."

I downed the first drink as soon as it hit the counter, the burn of the alcohol scorching my throat, but I welcomed it. It was better than the raw ache in my chest.

"Another," I mumbled, pushing the empty glass toward the bartender.

He hesitated for a moment, probably wondering if serving me more was a good idea, but he didn’t protest.

"Don't blame me for the hangover." The bartender remarked, rolling his eyes.

The second glass slid in front of me, and I grabbed it, taking a slower sip this time, letting the bitterness coat my tongue.

The numbness I craved started creeping in, dulling the edges of my pain.

"Perfect," I chuckled, wiping the last traces of alcohol off my lips.

As the minutes passed, I lost count of how many drinks I’d had.

Everything blurred together, I could barely make out my surroundings, plus the dim lights were not helping.

I was spiraling, sinking deeper into the haze, and I didn’t want to stop.

I heaved a heavy sigh, resting my elbows on the counter, and staring blankly at the half-empty glass in front of me.

My thoughts were a jumbled mess, but I couldn’t keep them inside any longer.

"You know," I slurred, turning to the bartender who was wiping down the counter. I could tell he was barely paying me any attention.

""People always say love is supposed to be this beautiful thing. They say it’s supposed to make you feel whole, make you feel… I don’t know… happy."" I remarked, rolling my eyes.

The bartender glanced at me, offering a nod. He wasn’t listening, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get the words out.

"But love isn’t like that," I continued, my voice thick with alcohol and emotion.

The emotions I was feeling were so overwhelming, and I didn't know what to do.

"It’s… it’s cruel. It makes you think you’re safe, that everything’s going to be okay. And then… and then it just rips your heart out, leaves you with nothing but pain.""

I let out a bitter laugh, tears blurring my vision.

I bit my lips, bracing myself for the tears that were threatening to fall.

""I gave everything to him. Everything. And for what? So could he betray me? So I could end up sitting here, drinking myself into oblivion, trying to forget how much it hurts?""

The bartender didn’t respond. He just kept wiping the counter, moving on to the next customer without so much as a glance in my direction.

"Figures," I muttered, taking another sip. ""No one cares, do they? No one gives a damn.""

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, but the tears kept falling, streaking down my face.

"You'll be fine."

I assured myself and I forced a smile.

Just as I was about to reach for my glass again, I heard a soft voice behind me.

"Here, I think you need this."

I looked up, blinking through the tears, to see a man standing beside me, holding out a handkerchief.

He had such kind eyes, and somehow I felt a warmth spread across my entire body.

I stared at the handkerchief for a moment, then slowly took it, dabbing my wet cheeks.

"Thanks," I mumbled, my voice shaky with emotion.

He slid onto the stool next to me, watching me with an expression that was somewhere between concern and curiosity.

"I'm not usually like this," I said quickly when I noticed he was looking at me with such intense gaze.

"Hmm, Rough night?" he asked gently.

"Is it that obvious," I added when I realized he wasn't the first person to say that tonight.

"You're sitting here alone, drinking yourself to oblivion, plus you're also in tears." He stated, letting out a smile.

"I'm pretty much it's obvious to everyone who has eyes," he adds.

I turned my gaze back to my drink, uninterested in making conversation.

I was here for a distraction, not to chat with a stranger.

"So, what’s a pretty lady like you doing in a bar?" he asked in a husky voice, moving closer to me.

The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and I found myself unconsciously leaning in.

"And what’s a man like you doing alone in a bar?" I shot back quickly.

He chuckled and leaned against the counter.

"You’re feisty; I like that."

Taking a sip from his drink, I used the moment to glance at him. His features were strikingly handsome, and I found myself impressed.

"Anyway, I came here to feel less lonely," he said, rolling his eyes.

There was a burden in his gaze, but I wasn’t concerned about that.

My attention stayed on his physique—tall, broad-shouldered, and undeniably attractive.

The pain of my recent failed marriage with Lucas weighed heavily on me, and I realized that this man right in front of me could be the perfect distraction.

"If you keep staring at me like that, I might start thinking you have other intentions," he said with a wink that was playful yet seductive.

"What if I do?" I retorted, testing the waters.

He looked at me in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

What I was about to do was probably the craziest thing ever, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at that moment.

I pushed myself off the stool and stood over him, our eyes locked in an intense gaze. A smile curved on my lips.

"You came here to feel less lonely," I said, tilting my head slightly.

"How about I keep you company for the night?"