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"I hope you're happy," Anakin mumbled in annoyance as we walked out of the store with bags in our hands. I had more than he did, much more. I got everything I needed; toiletries, clothes, snacks for the plane ride back, and a new duffel bag to carry it all in.

I sighed with content, "I'm very happy," The best thing is, I didn't have to pay for any of it. So of course I hardly looked at the price tags when I was throwing things into the shopping cart. He didn't protest either, even when he saw me grab more than a couple days worth of outfits, I'm sure he knew that I needed this therapy and he could certainly afford it.

The Uber was waiting outside and it took us back to the hotel, "This is yours." He handed me a key card to my room as we rode the elevator up to the fourteenth floor, "And I'll be right next to you."

I slipped the card between my fingers since my hands were occupied by the bags, "You better not snore."

"I don't snore." He rolled his eyes.

The doors opened and we stepped out to make our way to our rooms. According to the sign that directed us, ours were the last two at the end of the right hallway.

Just as we reached our rooms my phone began to ring, "Damn it," I dug into my pocket which was more difficult than it should be. Eventually I got frustrated and dropped everything to answer it. I paused and once again felt a tightening in my chest, it was Arthur.

I quickly ignored the call and placed my phone back into my pocket. "Judging by that sour expression on your face, that was your fiancé?"

"Ex-fiancé," I corrected him, "And yes, he's probably wondering where I am." I'm going to need a new phone number and a whole new apartment. I've always wanted to live close to work, now is my chance.

I picked my bags back up after unlocking it and using my foot to push it open. Anakin sighed as he watched me struggle, "Let me help you." He lessened the load by take about three bags off of my hands, leaving me with two—one in each hand.

"Thanks," I spoke low as he followed me inside, "You can just put everything on the bed there."

He did as I asked and set the bags down. My phone began to ring again and I didn't bother to check it this time since I knew who it was, "Let me answer it."

I looked at him like he was crazy, "Now why would I let you do that?"

He leaned his shoulder against the wall and watched me as I emptied the bags, "Imagine how he'll feel when another man answers your phone. Wouldn't it bring you happiness to bring him just a little misery?"

I grabbed a pair of pants and threw them onto the bed, "I'm not the kind to stoop low."

"Says the woman who put laxatives in my drink."

The phone in my pocket finally stopped ringing and so I took it out and laid it on the nightstand where it started to charge, via wireless charger that was built into the stand, "Don't act like you didn't deserve a little something after the way you've treated me."

"Dramatic," He mumbled.

I stopped what I was doing and faced him, "Don't you have your own room to get settled into?" He pushed himself off of the wall and I thought he was going to leave, until he came closer and I furrowed my brows in confusion, "What are you—"

"Hello?" My heart dropped. He had reached over to my nightstand and picked up my phone that I hadn't realized started ringing again, "No sorry, she's—" He smirked, eyeing me up and down, "Unavailable, call back tomorrow morning." Then he hung up and placed it back on the charger, "See you in the morning, rest up, we have a busy day."

"I can't believe you just did that." I said in disbelief. I couldn't tell if I was angry or not, I deliberately told him not to but whatever Arthur is feeling right now is probably not nearly as painful as what I've been feeling.

He shrugged, "Don't act like he didn't deserve it for the way he treated you." He echoed my exact words before leaving my hotel room and closing the door behind him.

I groaned and grabbed my phone, blocking the number before he could blow it up with countless texts and calls.

I folded the clothes I bought and fit them into the duffel bag—leaving the outfit I planned to wear for the meeting tomorrow out. Next was a shower, I waited for the water to steam before I got in and shivered as warm water covered my body and soothed my tense muscles. I stayed in much longer than I wanted to, the warmth was addicting and for just the slightest moment I felt okay.

Warm showers are known to relax the body and remove tension. Some therapists have even been known to recommend warm baths or showers to their patients because of the way our bodies react to it. Something to do with endorphins and oxytocin—I don't know, it was an article I read years ago and thought it was bull. Until right now.

I got out eventually and with the touch of the cold air, I felt like falling apart all over again. I almost got back in and I would have if the warm water hadn't faded away.

I checked the clock as I got dressed; seven pm.

I wasn't tired and even if I was, I was too depressed to sleep so there was only one thing on my mind right night—the hotel bar.

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"Surprise me," I told the bartender with slicked back black hair when he asked what I wanted to have. I was never a big drinker so in the moment I couldn't think of any names of drinks, "Just not beer and make it strong. Please."

He looked at me for a moment with his green eyes, "You look like a vodka cranberry kind of girl."

I raised a brow, "Why do I feel like that's an insult?"

"It can be, depending on who you ask." He chuckled as he put a glass in-front of me and started to make it. He put ice first before pouring the vodka which almost took up the entire glass, then he added a few ounces of what I'm guessing is cranberry juice, "Here you go." He slid it towards me while adding a small black straw.

I gave it a taste test and although it burned, it's exactly what I needed, "It's perfect, I'll take another." I said as I took a few more sips.

"You haven't finished that one yet."

"I will, just keep them coming. I've had the longest and worst week of my life and I would like to forget it for a night." Good thing our meeting isn't until noon, I can sleep in and have a greasy breakfast to nurse the inevitable hangover.

Then I'll be brand new.

He did as I asked and made me a new drink for every one that I finished. Eventually I was on number four, possibly five—I lost count when he started taking the glasses away.

I lost a promotion that should've been mine.

I lost a fiancé that should've been mine.

I lost a baby that should've been mine and any chance of ever having one.

All in a week. It's a miracle I haven't jumped off the roof of this hotel yet.

As I was attempting to make origami out of a black damp napkin, I heard someone sit in the seat next to me, "I figured this is where you'd be."

I rolled my eyes at that agonizing voice, "My god, can't I have a break away from you for just a few hours." I looked at my boss with disdain, "Is that too much to ask for?"

"Gin and tonic please," He told the bartender before looking at me, "And she's done, I'll close her tab." He pointed at me.

"I'm done when I say I'm done, and I'm not done." I protested.

He smirked as he looked me over, "How many have you had?"

"Three."

"Five." The bartender corrected me.

Traitor.

"Why are you here?" I asked, clearly annoyed that he's interrupted my solitude.

He tapped his fingers on the bar and that's when I noticed the paper sitting there, too close to the condensation from my glasses for comfort, "I made the corrections you gave me and this is the final pitch with the money offer. I wanted you to look it over for me, but you weren't answering your phone or your door and so I came here on a hunch."

I picked it up and read it over the best I could, but sometimes the words blended together, "I'm not in the best shape for this." I handed it back to him, "I'm sure it fine."

He downed his drink and ordered another one, "I figured." He took the paper after setting the glass down and folded it to put it in the pocket on the inside of his coat.

I watched him drink the second one, wondering what that drink tasted like, "I'll look at it tomorrow in the car ride over, what time are we meeting her again?"

"One," He set his empty glass down, "Are you sure you won't be too busy with your head in a toilet to show up?"

I narrowed my gaze, "I'll be fine, this isn't my first rodeo." He ordered another drink for himself, this time it was something called an old fashioned, "So why are you so alone all the time, hm? Someone broke your heart didn't they?" He drinks like someone has, I would know, look at me now.

He side eyed me, "No one has broken my heart, I've never even had a girlfriend and I'm more than happy with that. So why do you keep asking?"

"You hate commitment and drink like a depressed person, so I was assuming—"

"Don't assume." He snapped, drinking the old fashioned in one go.

Maybe it was the alcohol or simply because I don't like him—possibly both—but I was finding it hilarious to push his buttons and make him angry, "Must be the daddy issues then."

He turned his head fast to glare at me with eyes red from the three drinks he had in as little as ten minutes, "Would you stop speaking on things you know nothing about? Don't you have your own issues to deal with, like a cheating fiancé?"

Looks like I hit a nerve.

And he hit one right back.

"What's wrong, afraid you'll turn out like him?" I snapped back.

"What is your problem?" He hit his fist on the bar, "You've been so fucking bitter and miserable ever since I met you. I don't think anything in this world could make you happy."

"I have every right to be bitter, everything has been taken away from me. Everything." I leaned closer to him and our eyes were locked as we stared each other down, "You got a job that should have been mine. I worked my ass off for years at the company and I feel like I earned that position when it was just handed to you on a silver platter like the spoiled child you've always been."

He didn't say anything, his face only growing angrier.

"Then I come to find out that I can't even have kids. So the family I've always dreamed up has gone up in flames. And the same day I find that out, I walk in on my fiancé with his mistress in my own damn apartment. Who the hell wouldn't be bitter after all of that?" I realized that I was hardly breathing throughout my whole rant, so in the end I took a deep breath, "Well, don't you have something smart to say? Want to kick me down more?"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as his eyes glanced down to my lips.

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