Destiny: Time To Fall In Love

Chapter 29 - The Truth in the Palm

Three days. Seventy-two hours since the door clicked shut. Seventy-two hours since the "Ice King" lost his queen.

Aryan sat on a high barstool, the neon lights of the New York bar reflecting off the amber liquid in his glass. He stared into the bottom of the empty tumbler as if the answers to his failing marriage were hidden in the ice.

"Do you have something stronger than this?" Aryan asked, his voice gravelly from days of silence and smoke.

The bartender, a man with tired eyes and a steady hand, didn't reach for a bottle immediately. He kept cleaning a glass, his movements rhythmic. "No matter what you drink, you won't be able to forget her, sir."

Aryan froze. He looked up at the man in disbelief. "Is it that obvious? That I'm heartbroken?"

The bartender set the glass down and leaned against the counter, serving Aryan a pour of his finest, most potent whiskey. "Sir, I've been a bartender for five years. I've seen it all. Some come to celebrate a victory, some to share a burden, and some just for fun. But the most common faces? The heartbroken and the unlucky in love. I'm Mike."

"Aryan," he replied shortly, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass.

"People think alcohol is an eraser, Aryan," Mike said, his voice knowing. "But it's actually a magnifying glass. The more you drink, the more you remember. It's a lie that this makes you forget. It just gives you an excuse to do the stupid things you're too afraid to do sober—so you can blame the bottle later."

Aryan let out a faint, bitter smile. It was a jagged sound. "Mike, talking to you feels like looking into a fucking mirror. You're right. The more I drink, the more she's everywhere."

Mike paused, wiping the counter. "Was she a girlfriend? A crush?"

"My wife," Aryan whispered, the word feeling heavy and foreign on his tongue. "She's my wife."

"Did she cheat on you?"

Aryan paused. He thought of the laughter behind the hotel door. He thought of the two hours in the car. He thought of the pendant she never took off. He took the glass and gulped the whiskey down, the burn in his throat matching the fire in his chest.

"Maybe..." Aryan muttered, his voice trailing off into the dim light of the bar. "Maybe not."

"Ahh... I got it. You're one of those people," Mike said, setting down a clean glass and looking at Aryan with a mix of pity and disbelief.

"What do you mean?" Aryan asked, his brow furrowed. The whiskey was starting to dull his edges, but Mike's gaze was sharp.

"I'm saying, Sir—if you're not sure about something, then find out the truth first. I've seen it too many times. People come back to this bar years later, drowning in regret. They chose to hold onto a misunderstanding instead of clearing things up. And by the time they realize their mistake... it's always too late."

Aryan listened, the words sinking into his mind like lead. It felt as if a higher power was using this stranger to send him a message. He opened his mouth to respond, but his phone cut through the heavy atmosphere of the bar. It was David.

Aryan sighed and answered, his voice unbothered. "Yes, David?"

"What the hell, Aryan!" David's voice exploded from the speaker, furious and loud enough for Mike to hear. "You haven't shown your face at the office in three days! We have a meeting with the investors tomorrow. You know how important this is, yet you're being totally irresponsible! It wasn't expected from you. Look, if you don't want to come, fine—but bring me those files. I need them for tomorrow, and I need them right now. You get it? Fucking right now!"