James: Part Two

I hadn’t heard from her since the day she’d left. My goal had been to give her time to miss me and realize she’d made a mistake. However, as the days turned into weeks without any communication, my willpower waned, and I thought my sanity would follow shortly behind.

Two shots of tequila turned into four at a bar down the street from our house. I’d become quite the regular in an attempt to avoid my apartment, my best friend and his perfect romance, and the room I’d shared with the only woman I’d ever loved. And after the fifth shot, the drunk dialing started to take shape, and the closer I came to resembling a blubbering idiot than James Carpenter.

“Don’t do it, dude.”