Love Games

Eighteen: Taking revenge with another person

When I get back from Jack's and the driver drops me off outside the block of flats, I go straight into Emma's bar.

I can't go on like this, I can't do without alcohol.

Everything is out of control.

When I pushed open the door, I immediately attracted attention.

Although I am not as well-groomed as Emma would have wanted me to be, all eyes are on me.

I can't tell if it's because I've just stepped out of a sleek black car belonging to Jack's company or because I've just made out with him.

I'd never been to this part of his house before and discovering he had a reception room for business was a revelation.

Jack, who was so sweet and knew just the right words to say, had wrapped his arms around me earlier.

But now, when I think of him, I see another side - cold, hard-hearted and single-minded.

Demanding and dominant.

How can these be the same person?

In the dim light of Emma's bar, the familiar clinking of glasses and murmur of conversation swirl around me, but I feel detached, like an outsider.

My thoughts are consumed by the duality of Jack's nature, the way he moves seamlessly from tender to tyrannical.

It's a stark reminder of how lost I've become in this chaotic tangle of emotions and dependencies.

Each subsequent gulp blurs the sharp edges of reality, allowing me a momentary escape from the relentless inner conflict.

Jack's duality haunts me.

One moment he's the charming man who made me feel valued, the next he's a ruthless figure whose demands are unwavering.

The contrast is jarring and I can't reconcile these two facets of his personality.

I find myself questioning everything I thought I knew about him - and about myself.

Lost in thought, I barely notice the people around me.

The bar is a sanctuary of sorts, a place where I can drown my sorrows and forget the chaos of my life, if only for a little while.

But even here the memories of Jack linger, a ghost that refuses to be exorcised.

I go to the bar and order a double whisky from Tony - the barman.

I need something stronger tonight.

I sit down at the bar and Tony gives me a knowing look as he pours me a drink.

He doesn't have to ask, he can see the restlessness etched in my face.

I drink it, the first sip stings, but it's a welcome distraction from the confusion and pain. I push the glass back to him and immediately order another double whisky.

"Where's Emma?" I ask, my voice a little strained.

Tony answers without question. "I don't know. I haven't seen her all day. She's busy, you know, doing business, buying supplies, that sort of thing. You know how she is, always on the go," Tony explains as he hands me my drink.

Just as we are talking about her, Emma comes into the bar.

I'm halfway through my second glass of double whisky when I ask Tony to pour me another.

"Emma," I call, a little too loudly, causing heads to turn. The room seems to notice her presence and my relief at seeing her is palpable.

"Sarah, maybe you should slow down with the drinks," Emma says, her voice soft but firm as she reaches for my glass. I quickly down the rest of the whisky, the burn in my throat making me want to cough, but I refuse to show any weakness.