Rachel slumped against the couch in the eerily quiet apartment, the one she and Nathan had dreamed of sharing. The sparse, modern space seemed to mock her now, its emptiness a harsh reminder of their failed marriage . She took a long, reckless swig of tequila from the bottle, feeling the liquor burn her throat. Her gaze drifted to the clock on the wall, and she cursed under her breath.


“Damn!” She muttered.


Midnight had come and gone, and she was still awake, still drinking like a fish.


The tears had stopped two nights ago, when the harsh reality of their marriage's demise had finally sunk in. She'd cried until...