Chapter 32

The light chatter of happy friends, drunk buddies and men trying to snatch a one-night stand filled the tiny pub. Abigail sat at the bar, staring at the untouched glass of liquor. She thought she’d be able to drink her sorrows away like hundreds of people. Still, drinking was never quite her way of coping, and alcohol reminded her of Theodore.

The bartender eyed her from the second Abigail stepped inside with a duffle bag on her arm and tear-streaked cheeks. It wasn’t anything new to see, but the young woman sympathized with whatever Abigail was going through more than she would normally.

Abigail only uttered one sentence since she arrived, asking for the glass of Brandy--neat. The bartender, whose nametag read &lsq