Page 68 of Surrender

I pop open the most expensive bottle of bourbon I have and drink until I don't feel the pain anymore.

***

That's how Daniel and Harrison find me an hour later. Miserable, drunk, and firmly back in my anger.

"She sent us to check on you. Said you might not be handling her moving out well." Daniel says.

"I don't know what the fuck happened. Everything was perfect. She was perfect. We were perfect. Why the fuck does she think she needs to do it all over again?" I shout, throwing the now empty bourbon bottle against the wall and watching as it shatters. Light from the streetlamps catches on the thousands of splintered glass.

Harrison rubs the back of his neck, and I know he's guilty of something. I jump to my feet and am in front of him in a blink. I grab the front of his shirt in my fist. "What the fuck did you do!?" A droplet of spittle lands on his cheek but I don't fucking care.

He holds up his hands defensively. "Look, man, I just told her to be careful with you. I didn't want to see you get your heart broken."

"Look how well that fucking worked out!" I shout, shaking him by his shirt.

"What did she say when she left?" Daniel asks, pulling me off of Harrison.

"That she wanted a do-over. That she wanted to do things right. And if I loved her, I'd let her leave."

I slump down on the couch. The bourbon may have numbed the worst of the pain, but my head is swimming and I’m tired, well past the point of drunk.

"Well, that's good, then, right? She didn't break up with you. She wants a second chance to make your relationship right."

"It already was right! It was fucking perfect!" My drunk brain is repeating itself, but it's all I can think about. Before Serenity came into my life it was like I was going through the motions. I had work and running but not much else. She came into my life and before I really even knew what was going on, she'd given my life purpose. It started out as just protecting and providing for her, but the more she gave me of her trust and her body and her submission the more I came alive.

How am I going to survive without her? Six fucking months of what? Not holding her? Not touching her? Of freaking out wondering if she's safe or fed or not?

I won't fucking make it.

Chapter thirty-nine

Declan

"Dude, you're staring," Harrison says, elbowing me. I haven't fully forgiven him, and he knows it. It's been a full twenty-four hours without anything from Serenity. I got roaring drunk last night, tried to fist fight both Daniel and Harrison before they tucked me into bed with some Advil and water.

I spent most of the morning in bed, hungover, and self-loathing before showering, getting dressed and getting to The Envelope an hour early. Joseph didn't ask where she was, and I was grateful I didn't have to explain anything. Where would I start? I'm not even really sure what happened, only that she left me and asked me for six months.

She didn’t say anything about quitting her job here, so I'm relieved when she walks in for her shift.

And I'm staring. If I could will her to come to me with my eyes only, she'd already be here. Instead, she's serving customers. But she looks good, too. She has bags under her eyes like she didn't sleep, but her body language is more relaxed than when she firststarted here. She has more confidence, and it looks fucking good on her.

When she comes to deliver our whiskeys, she lays a napkin with black scribbling on it in front of me and shyly tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. I pick the napkin up quickly, disparate for any scraps of attention from her. "What's this?" I ask, but she is already retreating.

It's a phone number. I already have her phone number. I glare at the neatly written numbers as if they can help me make sense of it.

"She said she wants a redo, right? She's picking you up," Daniel says, delighted. He smiles at Serenity who is watching us from the bar and nods approvingly to her.

"She'spickingmeup."

"I like that girl."

He nudges me with his elbow. "So, what are you going to do?"

I waste no time. I tuck the napkin into my suit pocket and pull my phone out from my pants. My baby girl wants a do-over? Fine.

Me: Is this the number of the beautiful woman who just served me a whiskey?

Her phone must vibrate in her pocket, because she pulls it out and smiles down at the screen, before looking back up at me, but I'm already watching her. She blushes sweetly before returning to her phone, typing out a reply.

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