A Drunk Man

Chapter Four

The sun rises too fast, pulling me into a new day I don't want to deal with. My eyes had swelled up from the tears, my heart an empty cavity of pain Adrian had caused. Playing in my head, every second: the way he smiled at her, kissed her hand, and declared publicly his love for Sophia.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the divorce lawyer's number saved on my phone. My fingers were trembling as I pressed the call button. The assistant scheduled me for the afternoon; her polite tone was in such contrast to the turmoil consuming me.

It was done. I was filing for divorce.

It should have been a relieving thought, yet it only brought a deep, overwhelming sadness. I had fought so hard for this marriage, sacrificed so much of myself for a man who didn't look back while destroying me.

Adrian wasn't worth my tears anymore, but I couldn't help them.

I clutched the steering wheel, the sound of rain hitting the windshield echoing my chaotic thoughts. The city blurred around me as I drove aimlessly, needing to clear my head before the meeting with the lawyer.

A man stood in the middle of the street. His whole posture was heaving, unsteady, as if he couldn't stand straight. His clothes were ruffled, his face purple. He was quite beyond control, drowning in something invisible, yet it was strangling him.

I slowed to a stop, not knowing what to do. My mind screamed to keep driving, to keep moving forward. But something in me, desperate, raw, pulled me to a stop.

I stepped out of the car and approached him warily. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling, not knowing if I was talking to a stranger or a man completely lost to his demons.

He didn't answer at first. His eyes were half-lidded, glazed with alcohol or something deeper. Then he turned toward me, and our gazes met.

"I'm not okay," he muttered. His voice was rough, like gravel scraping against metal, and I felt an unexpected pang of sympathy. He staggered forward, and I caught him just in time to stop him from falling.

His hand clutched at Marm like a lifeline, his breathing uneven. "I need you," he whispered, his words tumbling out in stuttering, jerky beats, as if he wrestled something inside himself. "Please. I just need someone. anyone.

There was something so raw in his desperation that it stirred something in me. I wasn't in a place to be anyone's savior. I wasn't in a place to save myself. But I couldn't just leave him there, not like this.

"Come on, let me help you," I said, though I wasn't sure what I was doing or why this sudden compulsion to care for a complete stranger took over my body.

He nodded, the motion lethargic, and let me guide him toward my car. Driving him to the nearest hotel in deafening silence, I could barely hear my own thoughts. My chest was heavy, emotions knotted inside me. Adrian's face, his lies, were still on my mind, yet here I was, with this man, a person I didn't know, obviously with his own battles.

We had finally arrived at the hotel, and I helped him inside, my heart still racing with an adrenaline somehow that I couldn't even explain. His body was still shaking, not from the cold, probably from the weight of whatever must have pushed him to that limit.

You don't have to do this," he muttered as I helped him to the bed. But his eyes never left mine, and there was something in them-something that made me feel like I wasn't the only one drowning in a sea of desperation.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice. The words felt like an admission, a confession of my own brokenness.

He leaned in, and his hand, trembling, sent shivers down my body as it brushed my cheek. "It's fine," he whispered. "We needn't know. Not tonight."

With that said, his lips were already pressed against mine.

It was urgent, unrestrained, as if he couldn't hold himself back. I froze for a moment, unsure of how to react-my mind whirling. But then, in that split second of vulnerability, everything else faded away-the pain, the confusion, the anger.

I kissed him back.