Jonah's POV

The whiskey slides down my throat, scorching like liquid fire, though the burn is nothing compared to the inferno raging inside my chest. I fix my gaze on the caramel-colored liquor swirling inside my glass, watching the distorted reflection shift and blur, just like the chaos of my life.

Mike's Bar. My bar. The one sanctuary I believed might provide an escape from the crushing weight of my failures, the graveyard of endless regrets. Yet even now, seated ...