CHAPTER 2: The One Night Stand

My phone buzzed again. Rachel.

I stared at the screen, her name flashing like a warning I didn’t want to heed. After the fifth missed call, I sighed and powered the damn thing off.

"You don’t seem like the type who usually drinks alone… mind if I change that?" A voice suddenly said.

I turned slowly. A guy who looked to be in his mid-twenties, was staring at me with a cocky smile, while leaning against the counter like he owned it.

I gave him a flat look. "And you look like you practice that line in the mirror."

He laughed, unbothered. "Guilty. Just trying to lighten the mood."

"Well, try somewhere else."

"Ouch," he said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my drink.

The bartender shot him a glare. "She’s not in the mood, sweetheart."

"Noted." He lifted his hands like a harmless puppy and walked away.

After a minute, the bartender leaned forward on her elbows, watching me with seasoned sympathy. "Divorce or heartbreak?" she asked gently.

I took some time to reply. My grip tightened around the glass. "Does it matter?"

She shrugged. "Nah. Just helps me know whether to offer another drink… or a shotgun."

I smiled faintly. My first genuine smile in days. "Divorce." I murmured.

The bartender nodded knowingly, like she’d seen this scene play out before. "That burns slower. Lingers longer."

I took another sip, letting the warmth chase the ache in my chest. "He left me for someone younger. Richer. Prettier. And more… ‘ambitious,’ apparently."

"Men always find new names for betrayal," she said, like she’d seen it all.

I laughed, bitterly. "He said I was holding him back. That I had nothing going for me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you believe him?"

I didn’t answer. My eyes stung, but no tears came. I stared down at the amber swirl in my glass. "I think… I stopped believing in myself long before he said it."

She poured me another glass. "Name’s Carol. My ex left me for someone he met at a leadership conference."

I huffed. "Let me guess… you weren’t vibrating at his frequency anymore."

Carol smirked. "Ding ding. He said I was too grounded. Too serious. He wanted to ‘let loose.’ So he did. Right into her arms."

I tilted my head, genuinely curious.

"How did you handle it?"

She tilted her head like the story amused her now. "I slept with his rival at work."

I blinked. "Seriously?"

"Dead serious. He had this coworker, Darren. Smart, smug, competitive as hell. My husband couldn’t stand him."

I tried not to laugh. "That’s… bold."

"I figured if my husband wanted to let loose, so could I. No tears. No drama. Just equal energy."

"Did it help?"

Carol leaned closer. "It didn’t fix the hurt. But it fixed me. Reminded me I wasn’t invisible. That I could still feel powerful... wanted... dangerous even. It made me realize that the person I became while trying to save my marriage, wasn't really who I was."

"Was it revenge?"

She shook her head. "Revenge is when you care. This was... reclamation. A reminder that I still had my own fire."

I mulled that over.

"And what about Darren?"

Carol chuckled. "He moved to Toronto. Couldn’t deal with the drama after my ex found out and tried to fight him."

That finally made me laugh. Really laugh. It felt strange on my face.

Carol smiled and poured one last drink, tapping the counter gently. "To being done shrinking."

I lifted my glass. "To fire."

We drank.

And that’s when he walked in.

I didn’t hear him at first, I just felt it. The air shifted. Something warm, rich, a little spicy… sandalwood maybe. Then the stool beside me creaked, as he slid onto it.

Carol grinned. "Look who finally shows up. What’ll it be, Clyde?"

"Something strong," he said with a half-smile, his voice deep and smooth.

She got to work, and he turned to me.

"Whatever he did," he said softly, "I’m sorry."

I blinked "Excuse me?"

"The man who hurt you," he clarified. "I’m apologizing on his behalf. Not that it means much."

I tilted my head. "What makes you think I was hurt? Or that it was by a man?"

His eyes didn't leave mine. "You’re beautiful, first of all. Dressed like someone who didn’t plan on ending her night at a bar, which means this was unplanned. You ordered whiskey, neat... which screams 'numb the pain now' rather than 'I'm just here to chill.' And your facial expression actually says a lot."

I blinked, instinctively straightening my face.

"And," he added with a small smile, "I come here often. Never seen you before. So it’s safe to guess something happened tonight that drove you in. Statistically? Men are usually the cause of that kind of heartbreak."

Carol chuckled from behind the counter. "He’s not wrong."

I looked between them, then shook my head with a small smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"It’s human," he said gently.

Carol slid him his drink. He nodded his thanks and turned back to me.

"My name’s Clyde Bayne."

"Lexi," I replied, after a pause.

He raised his glass. "To Lexi. And better nights ahead."

I hesitated… then lifted mine. "To fire."

He clinked it. "Even better."

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We moved from whiskey to soft banter. Nothing too deep, just enough to stop me from slipping further into the void. Clyde had this way of talking… soft, magnetic, without pushing too far.

He leaned in "Would you like to go somewhere quieter? More… private?"

I paused.

Every rational part of me screamed no. I didn’t do things like this.

But then Carol’s voice echoed in my mind... 'Since my husband wanted to let loose, I decided to do the same.'

I looked at Clyde again.

He was tall. Handsome. Had kind eyes. The perfect stranger. A clean break from the weight of my crumbling life.

I downed the last of my drink. "Lead the way"

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The next morning, I woke up to crisp hotel sheets and a pounding headache. For a moment I felt nothing but physical discomfort.

Then everything rushed back.

The bar.

Clyde’s lips.

The way we had undressed each other with urgency and need.

I stared at the empty side of the bed.

He was gone.

No note. No goodbye. Just a half-empty glass of water on the nightstand and the faint scent of his cologne still lingering on the pillow.

There was no reason to be surprised. No promises had been made. Still, it stung more than I wanted to admit.

I found my phone, and turned it on. I felt...used? No, just hollow.

My phone rang. It was Rachel.

I sighed and answered.

"Lexi?" Came Rachel’s voice, full of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah"

"Where are you?," Rachel continued.

I rubbed my forehead "I am in a hotel, I think."

"Which hotel is that? Let me come over." Rachel said.

I answered tiredly, "I don't know."

"Are you sure that you are alright?" Rachel asked, her voice softening.

"I think I’m going home, Rach. Back to my parents."

"It’s okay," she said softly. "I understand."

I smiled faintly. "Thank you."

I hung up, and called a number I hadn’t called in years. My younger brother, Kelvin.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then—

"Hello?" A familiar voice said.

Lexi’s throat tightened. "Kelvin?"

A beat of silence. "Lex?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It’s me."

"Damn. I thought you were lost to marriage and ghost mode forever. What’s up?"

I hesitated, then let the truth spill "I’m coming back home."

"Alright then. I will prepare your room for you."

"Thank you, Kelvin." I replied.

"So, do you mind telling me what it is that hurt you so badly, that you finally remembered home?" He asked.

I let out a deep sigh. "It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when I get there."

"Okay. I will tell dad to prepare your best dish for you."

"Don't even dare." I said with a laugh. Our dad is a terrible cook.