I stumble backward, hitting the stool hard.The world tilts.
“Whiskey neat.”My voice breaks.
The bartender slides a coaster over, eyes registering my distress.I don’t care.I can’t look away.James buries his face in the redhead’s hair.Whispers something.She giggles.
A sick lurch twists my gut.It’s not just the infidelity; it’s the intimacy.The tenderness is the betrayal.
He never touches me like that anymore.
The whiskey arrives.I swallow it in one gulp.The fiery burn is nothing against the hollow ache in my chest.
“Another,” I say, pushing the glass forward.
The bartender raises an eyebrow but complies.
I slide a twenty across the bar and pull out my phone.Fingers fumbling, I switch to video mode and prop the phone against my fresh drink.
He takes her hand and pulls her away.
No.
I drain the second whiskey and follow.
I weave through the crowd, keeping my distance.
They disappear down a dimly lit corridor.
Phone steady, I record as James backs the redhead against the wall, his body pressing against hers.His hand slides up her thigh.Beneath the hem.He trails kisses along her shoulder to the base of her neck.When his mouth finds hers, the kiss is deep, possessive, consuming.
Nausea rolls over me, hot and acidic.
Was it ever like this with us?
The thrill of his touch is a faded photograph, the colors muted by months of broken promises.Nothing is left but a dull ache.
A man bumps my shoulder.“Are you recording them, you little minx?”
Shame floods my face.
I turn and run.Back through the crowd.Back through the double doors.Back into the brightly lit corridor.
The security guard yells something, but his words are lost in the deafening thrum in my ears.
I burst out into the alley, gasping for air.
The night swallows me whole.I wipe at my wet eyes and force myself to walk.
James’s proposal flashes before my eyes.
Down on one knee, bathed in candlelight.Eyes shining with… what?
Love?
Lies?
It doesn’t matter anymore.
I stop, fingers trembling as I swipe through my phone.Send.One video after the other.
