Miles had been hovering over my should all day on Friday after my outburst over the mug, no longer asking what was wrong but doing everything in his power to make the day easier and lighter. A few times when co-workers approached my desk he would leap out of his office and usher them in himself. I knew he was trying to help but it only made me clench my teeth and fist my hands until my knuckles were white. Not only did he pity me he was also being a little invasive and impeding my work flow and on that day I just needed to be treated normally.

Saturday morning came with the help of a late night bingeing cheesy, kids movies and eating a frozen dinner instead of making real food. I fell asleep on my couch with my arm draped over my eyes and when I woke up it was so dark outside still that Mickey was still darting around at his full nocturnal speed.

I knew I couldn't be lazy because my mind would take over so I tried to as active and busy as possible. Another early morning workout eased the stress for a while, but, like before, by the time I was showered and dry I was worked up all over again. I could tell myself over and over again to let this go, that Declan's actions were not my fault, but it was impossible. I spent an hour making the most intricate and complex breakfast I could muster. It ended up looking limp and distasteful anyway; I wasn't particularly inclined to eat spinach and egg whites no matter how fancy I prepared them. Mickey was delighted to chow down on the food while I opted for fast food.

After hours of cleaning I decided that I couldn't torture myself anymore. I needed to get out. I needed to be away from the people who knew every expression and nervous tick. I could already see the worry on Bella's face and hear her begging me to tell her what was weighing on me. I couldn't bear that. Not right now. I had felt like I just needed to lose myself, even just for a little while. So I picked out a navy blue dress and spent hours curling my hair and applying make up.

I was going out tonight. And not to some country bar with banjo music. I wanted deep bass, classy outfits, and expensive booze.

The first five drinks had gone down with ease. I had been angry and each drink made me think of Declan a little less and about myself a little more. Here, among the low lights and the smell of too-sweet perfume I felt so unlike I had at the country bar. I was comfortable about the almost-new dress shoes and strappy heels. My arms went up above my head and I let the music flow through my body. I had finally felt like I was exactly where I needed to be. I was anonyms and carefree. Buzzed and so happy.

But after someone bought me three more drinks I felt like my head wasn't on straight anymore. I had intended to stop after only a handful of drinks, but I had felt so good that I decided more couldn't hurt. And once it was no longer what I wanted it was too late. I still danced, still let my body sway about and the girls I danced with all encouraged me as I went, but it wasn't the same. I was someone who was always in control. The first few drinks had allowed me to release the reins and let my head tip back. Now I felt like I was on a runaway horse galloping towards a cliff.

I decided it was time to flag down a cab, but someone interrupted my thought process.

"Come on, you aren't done yet." A man murmured. I think he was the one who had bought me all of the drinks but I couldn't be sure anymore. "You said you weren't going to stop dancing until the sun came up."

"I'm tired now." I complained. And it's true. Not only was I feeling unwell I was also exhausted. I knew that if I went home now I wouldn't have a chance to think about Declan. My head would hit the pillow and I would fall asleep. But if anyone else other than this man had pulled me to the dancefloor I might've accepted.

He wasn't unattractive and he wasn't unfriendly. In fact it was the opposite that concerned me. He had been overly nice all night with offering me drinks and always checking up on me. He was handsome in the traditional sense, though a little plain. I didn't particularly like the way he dressed or the way he spoke as it was all too flashy and obnoxious, but I was still flattered by his attention. At least until I felt it had gone sour.

I might've been drunk but I still saw the way he started pushing drinks more aggressively and I was careful to watch him on the rare occasion he brought them over to me. I felt the way his hands grew firmer when he was touching me. It wasn't a coy suggestion anymore. It was like he owned me. Like now, he pulled me against his body on the dance floor and when I stumbled back to keep some distance between us his hold only tightened.

"You look so sexy in this dress." He groaned in my ear.

"Thank you." I replied stiffly.

"I can't wait to take you home."

That was the point that I realized I was in too deep.

"I never said I was going home with you." I corrected. My voice was firm, but careful. I had placed myself in a rather vulnerable position and I wanted to avoid a blowout. I wasn't sure I could handle a scene in this state.

"Come on, who else would you be going home with?"

"I didn't come here so I could find someone to take me home." I argued. My hips had stopped swaying to the music and I forced some distance between us now.

"Come on, you don't come out here dressed like this if you aren't looking for someone."

"Well I did." I snapped.

"Alright, calm down. Let's have another drink and you can think about it." he encouraged. His hand fell against my back, hovering just above my ass. And when he shot me a smile I realized how snide and cocky it appeared.

"Actually, I think I'm done for the night."

"Hey, come on, don't be like that."

"I hope you have a good night." I added, hoping to soothe some of the anger that I could see brewing.

"You need to stay." He said, his voice coming out sharper. That smile had faded.

"No, I don't."

"I bought you like fifty bucks worth of drinks and you aren't even going to sleep with me?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that was part of the deal." I protested, "If money is the issue I can give you some cash." I would give him my whole damn wallet if it meant he would leave me alone.

"Fuck you, you frigid bitch. You think money is the issue?" he growled, "Do you know how much this belt costs?"

"No, I don't. If money isn't the issue then we have nothing to talk about." I replied tightly, hoping that I sounded more sober and certain than I was.

I had had enough. I couldn't stay here any longer. I had come here for an escape from my life but all it was offering me now was a different kind of suffering and anxiety. I quickly collected up a few of my belongings and darted out of the door before another man could trap me or the previous one cussed at me more.

At first I was surrounded by cigarette smoke that made me cough and choke. And once I stepped out of the cloud and the cool night air settled on my skin. The air entered my lungs easier and my vision felt clearer. Yes, I was still drunk but having my own breathing room was enough to settle my system. From here it was only a fifteen minute walk to my apartment then I could rest easy.

Taking one more deep breath I began moving.

But, on my left there was movement that was distinctly male.

My first thought went to the asshole I had just gotten away from. My hands gripped the strap of my purse. It wasn't a lot, but if I swung it hard enough it was certainly enough to stun someone and cause a scene. After that I would only hope that my self-dense classes had been thorough enough that I could fight drunk.

But as I turned I saw blue eyes and blond hair paired with a fine suit.

"Miles?" I breathed, "What are you doing here?"

"Christ, are you drunk?" he demanded, then his eyes dipped down my body before trailing back up. I don't know if it was the trembling hands or the horror that was written all over my face but he knew something was off, "What happened?"

"Nothing." I blurted out too quickly, "I just need to get home."

"Okay," he whispered. I felt his hand slide down my arm and he delicately removed one of my clenched hands from the purse strap. Then he held it in his own. With a gentle squeeze I felt his strength and assurance flow through me. "Come on, let me take you home."