My head hit the bar’s sticky surface, and I groaned. My fingers wrapped around the glass, and I scooted it to my lips. I wasn’t even sure what day it was, but what the fuck would I care. Caring meant you had feelings, something I currently had zero of.

“Buddy, I think you’ve probably had enough.” The bartender nudged my elbow, and I lifted them for him to clean under them.

“I’m just getting started, asshole,” I called him out and laughed to myself through a smirk, intentionally trying to provoke him. It’d been a hot minute since I’d fought someone, and causing someone physical pain seemed to be the exact medicine I needed.

“Drex?” My sister’s voice was filled with concern, and the door shook behind her as she walked toward me.

“Shit. The fun police has arrived.” I closed an eye and tipped my glass to the bartender, not caring if he noticed I was alive or not. After all, he only served a purpose to an end. I needed him to pour me drinks, not judge me, or even like me.

Ignoring Lex as she climbed onto the stool next to me, I tapped my glass to request another drink. At this point, I didn’t even feel like wasting the breath it would take to ask him for a refill. I would drink until I couldn’t remember her name, which was all I could think of right now, so I definitely wasn’t drunk enough. I didn’t blame her for leaving. It was inevitable. I’d told myself I wasn’t good enough for her, but somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that. Never again. I vowed to always remember what a fuck up I was.

“Cranberry and vodka,” Lex ordered her drink and nodded when the bartender hesitated to give me another drink. She might be a pain in my ass, but at least she was getting me more alcohol.

Not acknowledging her, I tipped the full glass to my lips and swallowed the burn in one gulp, nodding my head to the song afterward.

“Look, I know you’re hurting,” she offered in a concerned voice, sipping her drink and then placing her hand onto my right forearm. Other than wincing from the pain her fingers caused, I refused to react to her.

She rolled my sleeve up to my elbow and eyed the word staring back at her.

“What does that mean, Drex?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“I guess it doesn’t,” she answered, not probing any further, which was out of character for my twin. Over the years, she’d always pushed for answers. It was part of who she was. She was naturally curious or nosy, depending on how brutally I wished to describe her.

Suspicion got the better of me, and I hoped I wasn’t playing into her hand, “What is it, Lex?” I asked against my better judgment, not sure if I wanted to hear her answer or not.

“Okay, so I stopped at the diner today…” She paused, hesitantly biting her lip. “Eris is gone, Drex. She moved.” She nervously folded a napkin, expecting me to break down upon the delivery from her news, I guess.

“And?” I asked her, not giving a shit where that woman was.

“She’s not coming back.”

“Okay?” Mindlessly, I questioned her, wondering why she thought this would faze me. This was what I deserved. It was the universe’s way of repayment. Not saving Noah threw off the balance of the world. He was too young to die. I had single-handedly defied nature by letting him lose his life, and I’d pay for my sins until the day I too died. Even then, I wasn’t sure the balance would return. Something told me I’d continue to right my wrong in hell.

“I don’t care if you’re an asshole. You have been most of our lives. But, don’t you dare lie to me, you shit!” Her voice escalated, and her head flung back as she took a shot of tequila, calling me out.

“Fuck it all, Lex. You know what I mean? She left. I didn’t.” The truth seeped outward into the air around us, and I couldn’t stop the words as they flowed. “It was her choice,” I added, glaring through the empty glass in front of me and out the window to the falling rain. Each drop that fell brought me closer to the memories I so longed to forget.

Today, it wasn't the whiskey that kept me drunk. It was memories of her. Forgetting Eris was out of the question. She dominated every passing thought in my head in one form or another. Over the course of five months, I’d watched her leave me over and over. Regardless of my determination to forget her, she was the only channel my mind saw fit to broadcast into my thoughts. Almost like the other aspects of my life had been scrambled due to nonpayment or something equally as trivial, preventing me from seeing the rest of the world without static. I knew no peace or rest without my heart throbbing in protest of the emptiness she created when she walked out of my life.

The trouble with loving someone was even after they were gone and you were deemed unworthy of their love, your emotions lingered as a constant, painful reminder of your loss. No amount of alcohol could protect you from a broken heart, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.