Matt

The dimly lit bar was a sanctuary of swirling emotions and clinking glasses. The scent of whiskey and beer hung heavy in the air, wrapping me in a familiar haze. The bartender, a grizzled man with tired eyes, set another glass in front of me, his expression unreadable. I nodded to thank the bartender, acknowledging that we both understood that the night would involve self-reflection, remorse, and a gradual immersion into an intoxicated state.

"Rough night?" he asked, and I nodded, silent. I watched the amber liquid slosh gently in the glass as if it held the universe's secrets. Each sip was a temporary reprieve from the turmoil in my mind, but it never lasted. The weight of what I had done, the fissure that had formed between Renee and me, was a relentless presence, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts like a persistent shadow.

I remembered the way her eyes had widened, the sharp intake of breath when I clumsily confessed to kissing Tameka. It was a confession born from alcohol-fueled recklessness, a moment that had meant nothing at all to me, but the look on Ren's face cut deeper than any sober conversation ever could. Her expression displayed hurt, betrayal, and a tinge of disbelief, and it seared into my memory.

Renee, my anchor, my confidante, the woman who had stood by me—by us—through thick and thin. I had betrayed her trust in the most painful way possible, and now the chasm between us felt like an insurmountable void. I hadn't meant for any of this to happen and hadn't intended to break the fragile bond that held us together. Yet, there I was, drowning in the aftermath of my own mistakes.

"Can I call you a ride?" the bartender asked. He seemed concerned for some reason as if a full-ass grown adult shouldn't be drinking at the bar, but I let it slide, noting his concern. I didn't want to go home, didn't want to face the scrutiny of my two best friends as we awaited anxiously for Renee's return. She hadn't told us where she was going, not a single word, and despite the texts and phone calls we made, it didn't look like she would.

"I'm fine. Thanks." The bar seemed to spin around me, a chaotic dance of blurry faces and muffled conversations. Each drink dulled the pain momentarily, but it couldn't erase the image of Renee's hurt gaze from my mind. I couldn't blame her for feeling the way she did. I had jeopardized everything we had built, and the weight of that realization bore down on me like a ton of bricks. Somehow, I needed to bridge the gap that I had created and fix this. But how? The more I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. The trust I had shattered wasn't something that could be easily repaired—if I could repair it at all.

"Matt," said a familiar voice behind me. I turned my head, taking in a woman I hadn't seen for far too long.

"Jami."

"Hey." Renee's college roommate and best friend slid onto the empty barstool next to me, pulling me towards her for a side hug. Jami was one of the good ones, a kind and genuine best friend who had been by Renee's side even longer than the guys and I had. She was honest, but kind, a pillar of truth that Renee had always turned to for advice.

"It's good to see you," I said, ordering her a glass of wine. She smiled, but it was forced. "Don't tell me," I continued. "You just so happened to stumble into the bar and find me. What a coincidence."

Jami continued to smile, but it was real this time. "I saw Renee," she said. "She told me what happened."

"Where is she?"

"She's staying with Eli and me for a while."

I swallowed, relieved that Renee had turned to her best friend instead of doing something like jumping into bed with the first hot guy she saw. Although, I knew I couldn't think that. If Renee was anything, it was loyal.

"So what brings you here?" I raised the bottle of beer to my lips and took another swig. The anguished thoughts continued to swirl, blending with the alcohol in a dangerous cocktail of regret.

"Ren wanted me to check on you," she said with a slight shrug. "I was going to send Eli, but then figured I'd better come myself."

"Why? Because he's a cop?"

"Yes, actually. I didn't want you causing any trouble."

"I'm not causing trouble," I insisted. "I'm minding my own."

"I know." Jami rested a hand on top of my own, her fingers curling over mine. The bar had grown quieter, the last remaining patrons lost in their own worlds. "But Renee was worried. I went to the house, but Jake said you weren't there. He figured you might be here."

"He figured right."

Jami sighed, her hand slipping from mine as he reached for her glass of wine and took a sip before setting it back down again. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Do we need to be worried?"

"About what?" I didn't know how much Renee had told her, and I wasn't about to spill my guts if she didn't know the whole story, so I continued to play stupid.

"You kissed another woman," Jami said, and under the mature, understanding tone of a good friend, I sensed a whiff of resentment.

"She told you, huh?"

"Obviously. She tells me everything."

"Did she tell you it was a mistake? And I regret it?"

"She told me it was with a coworker. A woman you still see every day."

I turned away from Jamie, unable to meet her eyes. On the belt of my slacks, my pager went off, and I fumbled to look at it.

"It's work." I set the bottle of beer down and glanced sideways at Jami. "They need me to come in."

"You're wasted, Matt."

"Haven't I told you? I work better drunk."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

I stumbled to my feet, the room spinning around me, mirroring the turmoil in my heart. I stepped out into the chilly night, the darkness a fitting reflection of the heaviness within me. The memory of Renee's hurt expression was etched into my soul, a constant reminder of the pain I had caused. I didn't know how, but I had to find a way to make amends, to earn her forgiveness, even if it meant facing the harshest truths about myself.

"Matt," Jami called, hurrying up behind me. "You can't go to work in this condition. How about I take you home?"

"I can't go home." I wheeled on her as fury built in my chest, simmering just below the surface. "I can't go home, Jami. I can't face the guys. I can't face Renee. I need to just—go."

"As your friend, I can't let you drive like this." She grabbed my arm and pulled, gently, but I yanked it from her grip and wheeled away, reaching for my phone.

"Fine," I snapped. "I'll take an Uber."

"Are you taking it home?" she demanded, and I nodded my head.

"I'll go home and go to bed."

"Good," Jami said. "Thank you."

"You'd better get home," I told her. "Ren will be wondering why it's taking so long."

"It's fine," Jamie said. "She knows I'm here." But as we waited, she hopped from foot to foot as the chill of the night air seeped into our bones.

"Uber will be here in three minutes," I said, glancing at my phone. "I'm fine now, but thank you for coming."

She gave me a quick hug and peck on the cheek. "Be good to yourself, Matty," she said. "Renee will never stop loving you. She just needs a few days, okay?"

"Okay." I was barely hearing her. My ears buzzed as she spoke, and finally, she turned away, going back to her car, her eyes on me as she pulled away and out of sight. I glanced down at my phone, canceled the Uber, then reached for the keys in my pocket. I couldn't go home.

Not tonight.