SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

SIX

As I step into the sports bar, the dim lighting and the sound of chatter greet me like an old friend. Mary, the friendly face I've come to expect, is perched on her usual stool. "Hey there, darling," she says with a warm smile, rising to give me a hug. "We thought you'd disappeared for good!"

Mary isn't just another client; she's the heart of the place, always ready with a welcoming embrace and a kind word. There's something comforting about her presence, like slipping into your favorite hoodie after a long day.

Before my trip to Europe, this bar had been my regular haunt, where I'd often find myself chatting with Thomas. Remember Thomas, that insanely hot owner. Well he was more than just a bartender; he was a confidant, someone I could always count on for a good conversation.

As Thomas hands over the glass of white wine, a small tremor ran through my fingers as I accept it. "Your favorite one," he says with a sly grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously. I manage a weak smile in return, my nerves palpable as I clutch the glass.

"Thanks, Thomas," I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper. "But tonight, I really mean it. Just one."

Thomas arches an eyebrow, his expression betraying a hint of amusement at my insistence. "Sure thing, Morgan," he replies, his tone tinged with skepticism.

Leaning against the bar, I take a deep breath, trying to steady the erratic beat of my heart. "I have to go to my brother's game tonight," I confesse, my words tumbling out in a rush. "It's the first time I'll be meeting his girlfriend, and I'm... I'm freaking out."

Thomas's easygoing demeanor falter for a moment, replaced by genuine concern as he straighten up. "Hey, it's gonna be okay," he said, his voice softening. "Just take it one step at a time. You've got this."

But his reassurance did little to quell the rising panic within me. Turning to Mary, desperation clear in my eyes, I plead, "What if I mess everything up? What if she doesn't like me?"

Mary reaches out, her hand resting reassuringly on mine. "Listen, Morgan," she says firmly, her gaze unwavering. "You are amazing, just the way you are. And anyone who can't see that doesn't deserve to be in your life."

Her presence is like a ray of sunshine in the dimly lit bar, brightening even the gloomiest of days. Whether it was offering a sympathetic ear or sharing a joke, Mary always knew how to lift spirits and bring people together.

But it wasn't just her charm that endeared her to the regulars; it was her genuine kindness and compassion. Mary has a knack for sensing when someone needs a shoulder to lean on or a comforting word, and she never hesitate to offer her support.

"So I guess if you're going to the game, you'll also see Braden," Thomas asks me leaning against the bar. As Thomas mentioned Braden's name, a jolt of anxiety shot through me, causing my grip on the glass to tighten involuntarily. "Yeah, I'll see him," I replied, forcing a nonchalant tone despite the turmoil churning inside me.

Thomas looks me with a knowing look, his expression sympathetic yet probing. "Do you think you're ready for this?" he asks, his voice softer now, tinged with concern.

A bitter laugh escape me as I run a hand through my hair in frustration. "Ready? I don't think I'll ever be ready to face him again," I admit, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "But it's something I have to do, I guess."

Memories of Braden flood my mind, a tumultuous mix of love and regret. We are inseparable once, but my own insecurities and selfishness tear us apart. I hurt him deeply, and the guilt weighs heavily on my conscience.

"I guess he'll just ignore me," I mutter, my voice laced with resignation. "And honestly, that's probably for the best. That's where we stand now." The truth stings, but it's a bitter pill I have to swallow. I betray his trust, shatter his heart, and now I have to face the consequences.