detachment ✔

22

I know the last place I should be is The Dime, but I somehow feel drawn to it tonight. I haven't been there in three weeks now, which is a long time for me. These past two weeks have been a total mess, starting with the fact that my depression was getting worse after Dylan's call. Felix forced me to leave the house this morning, since I hadn't even gone to work on Wednesday or Thursday. And since I wasn't in the mood to go to Timed today either, I told Felix I was going to help Jones after lunch, but of course, I didn't have the strength to go.

I hear the loud jazz music coming from the bar as I make my way across the street, surprised when I see a dozen people just standing by the door. Some of them are just talking with drinks in their hand; others are smoking and laughing with their friends. Everyone seems to have someone to spend time with, and truth be told, the only person I haven't shut out is Felix. But I don't mind living solo, not at all. I enter The Dime, the strong smell of people mingled with alcohol welcoming me. It's louder than usual today, which surprises me since it's not usually this loud on a Friday. I make my way to the bar stools, looking around for Scott. It's been a while since I last saw that arrogant and cocky asshole, and somehow, I miss him.

Suddenly, something catches my eye. A familiar face is sitting two stools away from me, and my heart drops when I see Dylan taking a swig from his glass. I gulp, getting up from my seat before he notices me. I head towards the entrance again, my heart beating in my chest, but someone stops me.

"Shana?" Dylan asks. I freeze. Fuck, this is the last thing I needed. I don't want to face Dylan, not yet, and I'm starting to wonder what kind of dark magic drew me to this place tonight. I slowly turn around, meeting his dark gaze. But something about him looks different today, maybe it's the messy hair and dark eyes from lack of sleep. Is something disturbing his sleep, too?

Actually, I'm glad this whole cheating thing is interrupting his sleep. Serves him right.

He suddenly gets up from the bar stool and starts walking away, but I hold him back. I rest my hand on his shoulder, making him freeze. He turns his head around so he can see me, deep bags under his light brown eyes. Forget what I said before, I am ready to talk to him about it.

He turns around fully, his gaze locking with mine. He seems weak tonight, as if the drinks are draining the life out of him.

No, I shouldn't feel sorry for him. He's a liar, just like Josh.

"Can we talk?" my body says, but my mind says something different. No, Tessa, don't do this. Let him go. Let. Him. Go. Dylan lowers his gaze, shoving his hands in his pockets as I let go of his bicep.

"Of course." he says, his tone quiet. I think he's as surprised as I am that I haven't kicked his ass. I gaze at the back of the room, where the diner tables are set up. Maybe it's better if we talk away from the bar, where everyone would be able to hear.

"Let's sit there." I say, walking over to the tables. Dylan follows me, taking a seat in front of me. It's somewhat noisier here, but it's all we've got. His eyes have never left mine for a second, and I clear my throat to indicate that I'm ready to hear him out.

"Go." I say, encouraging him. Dylan takes a deep breath, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes as he starts to speak.

"Firstly, I want to say that I wish I never had to put you through all of this."

"Go on." I say, rolling my eyes. I still don't believe he actually cares about me, but I want to hear the full story coming from him. He takes another deep breath, as if the words didn't want to come out of his mouth.

"What Tyler said... It's true. I'm married." he says, fiddling with his golden ring, which I had never noticed. Maybe he just took it off when he saw me. I swallow, trying my best to keep my anger and pain down.