ROBERT

"A refill?" As I held up my empty glass, the bartender inquired, and I curtly nodded.

Taking a sip of the burning liquid, I grimaced at the bitter aftertaste, then returned my gaze to my phone on the bar’s countertop as I continued to stare at the picture of Renee displayed on the screen.

In this particular photo, she was asleep on my hotel bed, her mouth slightly open with her strawberry blonde hair messy and scattered on the sheets.

Her long lashes cast shadows across her ...