Three

 

 

Zyrielle's POV

“You, okay?" I was sure I looked like hell. No one going through what I was going through would be okay. 

"Bad breakup?” he asked while he mixed drinks for another customer. "You know, I’ve got just the thing for you.” He poured a generous shot, his eyes locked on mine.

“On the house, beautiful. You look like you could use a little pick-me-up.”

I just needed anything to forget—the diagnosis, my failed marriage… everything.

I downed the shot in one gulp, wincing as the alcohol burned my throat.

“Men are scum,” I muttered, slamming my fist on the bar. I was already too tired of crying.

The bartender chuckled, “Ah, I see. Well, I can’t argue with that. We can be a bit of a handful sometimes.” 

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “But not all of us are bad, I promise. Some of us are even worth a second chance.”

I raised an eyebrow, a sneer playing on my lips. “Oh yeah? After wasting years of my life with this man and finally having the child he had always wanted, his ex who broke him comes back, and I’m thrown out… my inheritance…. Everything gone!”

“After all, did he realize I was plain and ugly!” I wiped off the angry tears.

The bartender’s grin wavered; his eyes filled with a sympathetic spark. “Ah, I see. Sounds like you’ve had a rough run-in with a real charmer.” 

He leaned closer, “Let me tell you a secret, beautiful. You are far from ugly and plain. You’re downright stunning. And if your husband couldn’t see that, that’s his loss.”

My eyes welled up with tears as she continued to narrate her tale of woe. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just a disposable doormat to men like him”.

I snorted, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “And I was stupid enough to think he loved me.”

“He is a fool not to see you, Cupcake,” a deep baritone voice whispered, causing me to shiver. I watched as he came into view, sliding into the seat beside me.

Just as I looked up at him, his eyes caught mine. Sitting beside me was what I could only describe as a Greek God, one that doesn't belong here, I must note. My eyes trailed down his chiseled jawline and facial features.

He had an aura around him that screamed danger, and his tanned skin highlighted his handsome features, making him look rugged and relaxed. His dark hair was ruffled, and his tailored suited his broad shoulders and lean physique. 

What was a man like this doing here?

“I could ask you the same,” He teased, causing my face to redden in embarrassment to have been caught staring.

 “Today is the worst day of my life…” I wasn’t about to expose everything that had happened to the stranger danger.

“Cheated or dumped?” he asked, and I gave him a sad smile, 

 “Typical relationship problem, so who was it? Your sister or best friend?”

“His ex that broke him,” I whispered, laughing wistfully as I downed another glass.

“Damn! That's a first… never knew men go back to their vomit”.

“All men are scum indeed,” he joked, causing me to smile at him while he beamed at me, almost like he could see me, but I knew Lucas was right; no man would ever glance at me like I was good enough to eat.

The bartender returned with another shot, and just as I was about to take it, he stopped me. “Wow! Easy girl, you know this drink is quite strong, and you seem like a lightweight,”

“You don't know me one bit!”

“Easy, Cupcake,” he said, and my breath caught as he asked, “What is a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?”.

“This is certainly not the right place for you as they are hungry men.”

“No one cares about me.”

“You must be blind then; I'm receiving a lot of death takes.”

I blushed before throwing down another shot.

“Do you think I'm beautiful looking like this?” I asked him and shook my head, “I know I'm not, and this is how you lure girls into your beds; then you should know it isn't working.”

“I don’t. Do you want to get out of then?”

That was quick; he was just like the others.

“I wasn’t wrong about you; all men are the same. You take what you want and then leave!”

“Fuck men!” without warning, I gulped down the drink after thanking the bartender and began heading out.  Tears poured down my eyes as I snuggled through the bodies of men; I felt their hands desperately try to grab me in the wrong places.

“Wait!” I heard him call out.

I don’t know what I was thinking about coming here; all I wanted right now was to go far away from everywhere and die in peace.

There was nothing here for me.

“Please!” I heard him beg, causing me to accelerate toward the door as my vision clouded my brain, and my breath came out short. 

The cold air hit me, and I drunkenly tried to locate my car; upon finding it, I struggled against my keys, trying to calm my breath.

 “Shit!”.  

This was not a good time to panic, especially with the honking of the fast-approaching motorbike, but I felt like I was not in sync with my body…Maybe because I was drunk.

Just before I could take the hit, I felt my body being lifted into the arms of another, and the motorist threw a series of curses my way before his crazed laugh followed suit. 

Shaking, I leaned into his warmth as he held onto my drunken self as he led me into the passenger seat of his car, ignoring my whisper of having a car.

“Are you okay?” I heard his familiar baritone voice ask, and the pressure hit me.

My croaked voice whispered, “I…”.

“You should have let me die…” Those bottled-up feelings hit me, and I busted into tears as everything fell on me those bottled-up feelings and with his arms around mine, I let go and cried.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked softly again, and I looked up at his blue, alluring eyes. In his eyes, I searched for mischief, wondering if I could trust him at all.

“I am not coming from a place of harm…” he added softly, causing me to nod.

He wiped my face affectionately, and I leaned toward his warmth.

“Okay”.

He pecked my forehead before driving off. One thing I couldn't understand was why it wasn't clear to me why I felt so protected by him.

 It looked like an exclusive bar. I noticed how everyone respected him and gave him space, but I said nothing about it, although I felt underdressed for a place like this.

“Here, you won’t worry about anything,” he whispered as he led me to a private section.

“Are you okay?” he asked once again; the feelings all came back, and I told him everything from my broken marriage to my parents throwing me out and then the fact that I was sick…I excluded the part that I was pregnant and had a tumor.

 “You know that you are beautiful and smart, right?”

I became tongue-tied, and he leaned in to tuck in a strand of hair that danced alongside the night breeze.

“Your husband is a fool for losing someone as gorgeous as you are,” he said again, causing me to blush under his fiery gaze. I took in his facial highlights. 

He leaned in, and I saw his eyes drift down slowly to my lips, and I found myself leaning in as he did.

Just as our lips were about to touch, I stopped and said, regretting it almost immediately as I saw the disappointment on his face, “I'm still married.”

 As the night wore on, we continued to drown my sorrows in vodka, our initial awkwardness giving way to a sense of understanding, although he told me nothing about himself.

With each successive shot, our reservations faded, and our laughter grew louder. We stumbled over words, our sentences slurring together in a hilarious mess.

 

At one point, I found myself giggling uncontrollably as the stranger attempted to do a terrible version of a karaoke song. Bored, I joined in, our voices blending in a noisy, off-key singing.

 

We become increasingly sloppy, their arms slung over each other's shoulders, laughing over rubbish.

 

In a drunken slur, he looked at me with glassy eyes and whispered, "You're the most beautiful girl ever... I mean, ever! Your husband is a fool... a complete fool!"

 

My heart swelled with mixed emotions—sadness, anger, and a hint of gratitude toward this stranger who validated my worth. I smiled wistfully, my words slurring, "Thanks... thanks for understanding. You're not so bad yourself."

 

 

The stranger's face lit up with a goofy grin, and he hugged me tightly. We stood there, swaying to the night's music, two strangers-turned-friends bonding over shared heartaches.

 

In that moment, I felt a fleeting sense of connection.

The Bournes and my family didn’t deserve my death. My child deserved love to the fullest, and I deserved a love that never made me feel like a second choice…

I let out a drunken chuckle before whispering, “Marry Me…”