Part IV

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I left the Met feeling an enormous amount of guilt. My decision to pursue art and my passion led me away from Skylar. I was confident that Skylar felt that way, too.

I started to walk and thought that I would stop by Samuel's bar, at least just to say hello. We lost touch over the last few years, but not for any reason other than life got in the way. I walked at a much slower pace than I used to when I lived here, and the people rushing around me noticed.

When I turned the corner to Samuel's, my excitement was crushed and I stopped short. O'Leary's was no longer O'Leary's. Instead, it was now an Irish chain restaurant and bar. The disappointment was overwhelming. I stepped inside and glanced around. Nothing authentic hung on the walls. No photos of Samuel and his father, or the locals from his pub back home, or Manhattan, or even the photo from the Christmas I spent with them. All of us laughing and smiling, happy to be just happy.

"Pardon," I asked the bartender. He barely acknowledged me as he shuffled back and forth, wiping down the bar. "Samuel O'Leary. Does he still own the place?"

The kid shrugged. "Never heard of him."

I nodded and went to leave.

"Do you want a beer?" He asked and grabbed a glass. I considered it but shook my head, making my way back outside.

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