Michael sat at the bar, drinking his weights worth in drinks even after telling himself one hundred times it's such a dumb idea. Drinking won't bring her back to him. If she's even gone. Here he is, drinking to the memories he has of her, not even sure if she's really gone yet.
The most recent memory of them, the last memory, is the one that's playing over and over again in his mind as he downs drink after drink. He jumped over the linked fence in her back yard and climbed in through her bedroom window, seeing a lot of her belongings already boxed up and ready for her move. She's the one who asked to move in the first place.
Its 6 am and this is what i do with my life! But hey 3rd book of this series is up
