4

~ RICHIE

I find the saying that men don't have feelings ridiculous because they do. It might not be vivid nor accurate but they do get hurt, they do cry and most importantly, their heart bleeds too

Every night, I find myself seeking solace in the burning sensation of alcohol, hoping it will numb the pain in my heart. But no matter how many shots I take, it never seems to work. Tonight is no different. I'm sitting in this dimly lit bar, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. The empty shot glasses in front of me are evidence of my attempt to drown my sorrows. I reach for the last shot and catch the bartender's attention. "Five more shots, please?" I mutter, my voice heavy with desperation.

The bartender acknowledges my request and in a minute or less, he comes back with the shots and as I reach to take it, a hand races me. "I think I will take that," Elsa says, reaching for the shots.

I shoot her a piercing glare, questioning her presence. "Why are you here?" I ask, my voice laced with annoyance.

She meets my gaze, concern etched on her face. "I could ask you the same question. You know the doctor advised you to stay away from alcohol, right?"

I scoff, my anger rising. "I don't give a fuck about what the doctor says. He spouts a load of nonsense that’s none of my business," I retort, feeling my head spin. I snatch the shots from her hand, wanting to drown my sorrows in bitter liquid. Gulping down the shots, I feel the bitterness seep into my lungs.

"Richie you don’t have to be doing this to yourself," Elsa says, her voice filled with sadness.

"I do," I respond, downing another glass of shots.

"No, you don’t. No matter what happened, you can't continue hurting yourself like this."

"I do." I gulp down two shots at once, feeling my heart racing in my chest. Tears well up in my eyes as I look at Elsa, I let my heart speak, the pain raw and overwhelming. "I do because It's all my fault. I made her leave, Elsa." I say recalling the bitter moment.

With a sigh, I take another shot and continue "I fucking made her cry, I fucking hurt her. I fucking used her." My heart tears up as the tears in my eyes roll down "I ruined everything when it got too real."

Elsa's face softens, sympathy shining in her eyes. I turn away, unable to bear the weight of her gaze and continue with the remaining shots. "Richie, I'm really sorry. I didn't-"

"Don't be," I cut her off. "I don't need anyone's sympathy," I say, my voice filled with a mix of frustration and self-loathing.

I could feel Elsa's eyes on me, presumably searching for the right words to say. After a moment, she finally speaks up. "I get that you are hurting, but sometimes you have to find a way to move forward, even if it means breaking your own heart."

I let out a scoff, my voice filled with bitterness. "My heart broke the moment she left, and it can only heal with her by my side." I turn to look at Elsa and continue "Moving on is not something I can do, nor is it something I even want to do."

"But it’s been two years, Richie."

"Two years, ten years, or even eternity, my heart belongs to Rachel and it cannot move on without her"

Elsa lets out a sigh, her expression filled with concern. "Richie..."

"Please, Elsa," I interrupt, not wanting to hear her response. "You will never understand what I feel Rachel." I take another shot, trying to drown out the pain in my heart.

No one will ever truly comprehend how I feel about Rachel. I'm utterly infatuated with her - longing to hold her in my arms, yearning to witness her smile. My heart craves her presence, as she's the missing piece of my soul.

I quickly down the last of my shots, my mind clouded by the alcohol's numbing effect. As I reach to call the bartender for another round, my phone starts ringing. I glance at the caller ID and dismiss it without a second thought. It's the tracker I hired to find Rachel's location, he always brings bad news to me and right now I'm just not in the mood to deal with that.

I ask the bartender to get me more shots and as he did, I reach to take one but before I can, my phone starts ringing again. It's the tracker calling once more. I'm about to reject the call when Elsa suggests, "I think you should answer it. It might be important."

Reluctantly, I pick up the call, my face expressionless. "Look, I know why you're calling, and I will get you the money tomorrow morning."

"It's not about that," he responds.

"Then what is it about?"

"I found her," he says, his voice filled with excitement. I can sense the joy in his words.

"You found her?" I ask, my voice filled with a mixture of hope and excitement. I need to confirm before I let myself believe it.

"Yes, sir! I have her location, her state, her home address - everything is on my record, and I'm sending it to you right away,"

A surge of joy rushes through me, and a wide grin spreads across my face. "Thank you. Thank you so much," I say, my words overflowing with gratitude.

"You're welcome, sir," he replies, and I quickly end the call. Turning to Elsa, I wrap my arms around her tightly. "He found her," I say, unable to contain my happiness.

"Really?" she asks, her eyes shining with hope.

"Yes, he found Rachel, my Rachel," I say, my voice filled with a mix of bluntness and absolute delight.

I always had this feeling deep down that things would work out, and it seems like the time has finally come. After two years of searching, I have finally found her.