I’m not stupid.
Not to mention, he’s never given me any indication that he’s being anything but nice to me.
He pours me a glass of wine and offers it to me with a wink. “Why don’t you take this upstairs and unwind, Izzy?”
“I will not turn down that offer.” I accept the wine and turn to head upstairs to the apartment. I climb the steps and take a sip of the sweet wine that Keegan always has on hand now.
I feel a little guilty that he still won’t let me sleep on the couch. I know it has to be uncomfortable for him sleeping on that thing, but he won’t even entertain the idea of trading with me. I’ve looked for a small apartment, but I haven’t been working here long enough to afford first, last, and a deposit.
And there’s no way I’ll ask my father for help—not that he’d give it, even if I did ask.
I change out of my dirty T-shirt and jeans into black yoga pants and an oversized sweater that hangs off one shoulder 80s-style, then sit on the couch with my glass of wine when a text comes through from a friend back home.
This is the first time she—or any of my friends—has reached out to me since the wedding. And, yes, I understand that it only reiterates that I have some shitty people in my life.
I open my phone.
Mindy: OMG! Did you see this??
She included a screenshot of Troy’s Instagram page. I unfollowed the page last week, but now I open the app and search for his name. Troy has a public profile, so I don’t have an issue with seeing the images.
Photo after photo of my ex-fiancé in Aruba—on my honeymoon—with none other than Heather Croy. My supposed friend. Ex-friend now, the way she’s hanging all over him.
I don’t bother replying to Mindy. She’s only stirring shit. Doing a good job of it, obviously, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a response.
I stand and pace the living room. I can hear the music downstairs as I drink wine and look at the photos over and over again.
He went on my vacation.
He took my friend.
I wonder if they were sleeping together before the wedding. Looking back now, it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if Troy had been cheating on me for a long time.
I finish my wine and frown. I’m going to need much more of this.
I march out the door and down the stairs to the bar. Keegan’s eyebrow raises when he takes me in and then he cocks his head to the side. “Problem, sweetheart?”
“I want to get drunk.” I hop up onto a stool. “Take the tab out of my paycheck.”
His eyes narrow. “All right then, if it’s drunk you want to be, I can help with that easily enough. Wine?”
“Whiskey.”
He sighs and leans on the bar. “Izzy, what’s bothering you?”
“None of your business.” If I talk about it, I’ll cry, and I’ll be damned if I waste even a single tear on that asshole Troy. “I just want to drink.”
“Okay, then.” He pulls out a highball glass, not a shot glass this time, and pours me a good helping of Irish whiskey.
“Whoa, be careful there, lass,” the man next to me says when I take a big gulp. “That whiskey is for sipping. It’ll go down smooth as silk.”
“What’s your name?” I ask the older gentleman.
“Sam.”
“Well, Sam, thank you for your advice. Are you married?”
“For nearly forty-six years now.”
I grin and pat Sam’s shoulder. “That’s sweet. Do you still like her?”
“Do I like her?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I guess there was a day or two in those years that the liking might have been in question. But the love has only grown every day.”
I nod and feel warmth spreading in my chest. Whether it’s the sweet words from Sam or the whiskey, I’m not entirely sure.
“That’s nice. I’m glad for you, Sam.” I set my glass closer to Keegan and nod at him. “More, please.”
Keegan’s lips press into a line as he pours me some more, but he doesn’t ask again what’s wrong.
I take a big sip, then decide to slow it down a bit so I don’t fall on my face in the next six minutes. My lips tingle, and my head is blissfully cloudy as the band returns from their break and begins a slow, sad Irish song.
Maggie bustles by and offers me a smile. “Hello there. I thought you’d left for the evening.”
“I did, too, but it seems I need to get drunk.”
Her eyes narrow, much like her older brother’s. “Well, we all have those nights, don’t we? Let me know if you need anything. Like food to sop up some of that Jameson.”
“Then I wouldn’t be as drunk, and that would be sad.”
She chuckles and loads her tray with the drinks Keegan placed out for her. “That’s true. I’ll be back.”