Chapter 42

“You’ve painted that spot three times already,” Alena says, and I turn to scowl at her.

“Just pointing it out, boss.” She’s the one person I can stand to be around right now, so it’s a good job she not only doesn’t care that I’m grumpy and surly, but is happy to come and help me finish getting the bar ready to open next week.

But she’s right, I’ve painted the same area of the wall. I throw the roller down into the tray and reach for a cigarette.

She raises an eyebrow, and I know what she’s thinking, but I don’t need her judgement making me feel any worse about myself right now. I had all but given up smoking, but found myself reaching for them more and more over the last few days.

During the day, I’ve made sure I’ve kept busy—painting, cleaning, and sorting not only the bar area but my apartment as well. As soon as I wake, I throw on some clothes and get to work. Alena has started bringing me food, but I have no appetite, so half of it doesn’t get eaten. When I do eat, it’s usually only because she’s standing over me. I work until I can’t do any more and then I knock back a couple of drinks to numb my mind so I can sleep.

Anything to keep myself from thinking, because if I go down that route, I fall into a pit of self-loathing and embarrassment. I can’t believe I didn’t wake up sooner. But my jagged heart was awakened, and I followed the siren’s call even though I knew it was a foolhardy idea. I had no right to lust after two younger men. Nobody has a relationship like that. It’s bizarre and I’m disgusted with myself, so I don’t allow myself to think, and I don’t look at myself in the mirror. I don’t need to see my mistakes reflected back at me.

I know I’ll be able to get over this because it was never real in the first place. It was just a fairy tale, and I needed a dose of reality and my bar to let the memories fade. I just need to ride it out. I’ve had the love of my life, Valery, and I feel ashamed that I might have denigrated his memory by getting carried away in a delusional fancy. Love never strikes twice, you only get one chance, so I know this will pass. But what I don’t understand is why every time I wake up, I feel worse instead of better, and my heart feels like it’s turned to ash.