***POV ISABELA***
Something inside me is hurting. I'm shattered, and I don't know how to fix it. My heart is heavy and broken. I wanted to scream, but it wouldn't help; no one heard me. It hurts so much inside.
My chest was crushed with pain, a pain so deep and real that it led me to wonder if my heart was capable of breaking.
I slam the door of my car, setting off the alarm and looking around the dark road. I observed the lights of the only establishment in the area; it was a deserted bar, I would say, literally in the middle of nowhere. For a second, I questioned why there was a bar on this deserted street. There were no nearby houses or other establishments besides the bar.
Well, if it's open, there must be customers, right? Maybe it's more common than I imagine for people to seek deserted bars out there... or maybe they want to drown their sorrows away from everything and everyone like I'm doing now.
I took a deep breath once again, gathering the courage to approach the bar. I put my keys in my small handbag and walked slowly and carefully to the entrance of the bar.
“Delicious!” I heard a man's voice, and I jumped slightly from the scare. It was a drunk man lying on the sidewalk. Disgusting!
I ignored the presence of this disgusting man and entered the bar, always observing everything around me. After all, it was my first time here.
There weren't many people around; in fact, the tables and chairs were empty. A calm, low ambient sound was playing.
I approached the counter, sitting on one of the chairs there. I looked around for someone to serve me and soon spotted a man rising from behind the counter.
“Good evening,” he said kindly. “What would you like to drink?” he asked.
“The strongest drink you have.”
He smiled, analyzing me for a moment.
“Bad day?” he asked, taking a bottle of dark liquor and a small glass, placing the glass in front of me, and pouring the drink.
I didn't respond. I turned the glass of drink in one go, earning a startled look from the man.
“Wow,” he nodded. “No grimaces. You're strong!”
Indeed, I am very strong, and I'm not just talking about the drink.
He poured some more drinks into my glass.
“Why a bar in the middle of nowhere?” I asked curiously.
Again, he laughed.
At least someone here is happy, I thought.
“When I decided to open the bar here, they called me crazy,” he commented. “But, you know, it was the best decision I ever made. We don't have neighbors and no one to complain about the noise.”
“Hm,” I grunted, sipping my drink. “But, does it get busy?”
“What brought you here?” he asked suggestively. And I realized that my thoughts when I arrived here were correct. Many people seek deserted places to get drunk.
“I'm having a shitty day. A shitty life.” I replied.
“I'm a good listener.” He pulled up a chair and sat in front of me on the other side of the counter.
“I just got divorced. A 15-year marriage...” I sighed, looking at my glass.
“Oh,” he said, surprised. “I'm sorry!”
“Don't be.” It was the only thing I responded to because I still didn't know if my divorce was a relief for me or not.
The man in front of me stood up and smiled at something behind me that I didn't even bother to look at. My glass was more interesting!
“Noah!” the man said excitedly. “I'll attend to a customer," he informed me.
“Leave the bottle here,” I requested.
He looked at me hesitantly but left the bottle in front of me before going to attend to the customer who had just arrived.
I looked at my glass and then at the bottle about three times in a row. I picked up the bottle in my hands and started drinking straight from the neck.
“You drank the whole bottle." I heard the voice of the man whose name I still didn't know. I faced his face, which was also looking at me.
“You still haven't told me your name!”
“I'm married!” He raised his hands in surrender, and we both burst out laughing. I was already drunk, for sure; I'm not used to drinking because, according to my ex-husband, that's something a vulgar woman does. Vulgar? If I'm vulgar, what is he? The man laughed because he laughed at everything anyway. “I'm kidding,” he said, stopping laughing. “I mean, I am married.” He stumbled over his words, making me laugh again. “My name is Liam. And you, a woman with a broken heart?” he asked.
“Isabela.”
“You drank the whole bottle. It's time to stop, don't you think?” I quickly denied it. “Isa,” he said, looking at me reproachfully.
“I'm fine!” I said it excitedly. “I'm happy. By the way, play a song I want to dance to.” I asked.
Without thinking twice, he moved away and I soon heard another song playing a little louder. A lively song!
I got up from the seat I was sitting on and walked over to a small dance floor there. At this point, I didn't even care if there were one or two other people around; I just wanted to dance and have fun. It's been many years since I danced and since I truly enjoyed myself. And today, I decided to allow myself.
Gradually, I started dancing to the rhythm of the music, smiling into the wind.
Before I knew it, a man was dancing in front of me. I'm not sure when that happened, but there he was, the man in front of me.
He extended his hand to me, and I handed mine to him, placing my hand on top of his. He lifted my arm, spinning me around, eliciting a genuine laugh from me. He laughed too, and what a beautiful smile he had.
He pulled me close to him, our bodies touching. His eyes looked at me intently; he was a little taller than me, so I had to tilt my head up to meet his beautiful blue eyes. His gaze shifted between my eyes and my mouth.
The music faded into the background, and I forgot I was in the middle of a bar; it felt like everything around us had disappeared, leaving just me and this stranger. He moved his hands from my waist up my back, sending a shiver down my spine that almost made me tremble. He firmly held the back of my neck and, without asking for permission, captured my lips with his.