Chapter 57

Clara's POV

The last thing I remember was storming out of the house. I just kept walking aimlessly until I finally snapped out of my thoughts. I had no idea where I was going.

It must have been at least an hour after almost getting bumped by a car that I decided it was time for me to stop.

I sat on a bench just thinking, trapped in my thoughts and far away from reality.

Ivy arrived about half an hour later. I can't recall exactly when I called her, probably between all my feelings.

I felt everything and nothing all at once.

She sat beside me almost unnoticed and then touched my shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" she asked after a solid five minutes in silence.

I looked up, staring across the street. And suddenly, there was the answer: a bar. The bright neon red letters on the glass windows made the idea even more appealing. Everyone drinks to get rid of their problems, don't they? It must be because it works.

I walked across the street without a second thought, urging Ivy, who sounded hesitant, to follow me.

Stepping into the bar, cheers erupted from every direction—more happy people who only seemed to remind me how unhappy I was.

For a remote bar, it seemed to be packed with soft music playing in the background.

I pulled out a stool, settling myself in at the bar counter. I've only been to a bar once before. I've always thought I was too broke ever to become an addict of any sort, so I shied away from bars.

"What can I get you, Miss?" the bartender asked.

"Something really strong that would help me forget all about my problems," I answered.

"I'm sorry, she doesn't get out much. We'll get two vodkas." Ivy interrupted.

The bartender nodded and then carried out our orders.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to a place a bit quieter with preferably less sweaty people?" Ivy asked.

"This is right where I'm meant to be," I answered assertively.

The bartender slammed our two drinks on the counter, two tiny glasses.

I was surprised that that was it. I expected a lot more.

Maybe I should go out a lot more often.

I took a shot of the strong liquor, the fluid running down my throat.

With alcohol tasting this horrible, how was it ever supposed to help anyone feel better?

"I want a whole bottle," I said, slamming the glass down.

Ivy looked at me, concerned, as the bartender nodded at my request.

We started drinking, both of us taking turns taking our shots as I continued to elaborate on my problems. Ivy seemed to have her love problems, too. The name of the guy whom she refused to mention but assured me I had met.

It took two shots, and I was rumbling out of control. Trying to balance on this stool without so much to support my back was nearly impossible; the liquor was slowly getting to my brain.

"I'll be right back; I'm going to the bathroom." She announced, climbing off the stool.

She pushed her way past the crowd, disappearing into the background.

I began pouring another glass for myself. I had promised myself that this would be my last drink. Any more alcohol, and all of it, will empty my stomach.

I heard a faint whisper behind me. A guy approached me, leaning on the counter right beside me.

"Hi," He greeted, raising both his eyebrows flirtatiously.

"Hi," I droned, not paying much mind to his presence. I was now contemplating whether to drink or not.

"How about I get you another drink, something more fitting for a lady like you?" He winked.

Although I was drunk, I still wasn't anywhere close to forgetting any of my problems. Maybe he knew something that could help.

"Sure," I answered hesitantly.

Before I knew it, Ivy was back. She cleared her throat, staring at the guy sternly. "You should back off; she is not that desperate or drunk yet," Ivy said.

The guy gave Ivy a cold stare, but Ivy remained firm and aggressive in her stern look, causing the guy to slowly back away. Ivy kept her hard gaze on him until he disappeared again.

"Why would you do that? He was offering me a drink, and he was a bit cute." I mumbled.

I hadn't looked closely at him, but under the dim lights, he seemed okay. I had met worse creeps.

Ivy reclaimed her seat. "In your sadness, you may have also gone blind. I know you are hurt, but do you want to go from Derek to that guy? Are you sure you want to stoop that low?" She questioned.

She had a point.

"Besides, by the looks of it, it seems like you already had enough to drink." She pointed at the bottle that was nearly half empty. In my defense, she had helped me for the most part, and the alcohol seemed not to have affected her in any way.

"You should have a drink with me," I slid the bottle over to her.

"I probably shouldn't drink that much. One of us has to be sober enough to take the other home, and we have to make sure neither of us does anything stupid like end up as a one-night stand for some guy who still lives in his mother's basement." She answered.

I stared down at the full glass I was yet to drink as I tried to rethink every bad decision I'd ever made. "I think I'm going to die old and alone, with no one who loves me. Maybe I should have stayed with Waylen; none of this would be happening to me now." I said.

"Everyone that saw you two together knew you could do much better." She answered. "Maybe you should stop drinking now. It's time for the two of us to go home. We still have work tomorrow. It would be terrible if we showed up hungover." She tried to reason.

"I feel like I don't have a home anymore. I don't think I'll have a job either after I tell Derek the truth tomorrow. He is going to hate me," I said.

Ivy nearly choked on her breath. "So you are not just sticking with the miscarriage story or a car accident?" she asked.

I sighed. "I feel like I've been deceived my entire life, and I don't ever want to do that to anyone else or for them to feel how I feel now. It hurts. I hope he will forgive me. It's the right decision for me to make." I answered. Maybe I wasn't so drunk after all; a part of my brain was still working.

Ivy shook her head in disapproval of my newly found moral compass.

"I think I'm going to move out. Leave and go to a very faraway place where no one knows me so that I can escape all of my problems." I deducted next. I raised my glass to take my final shot.

"You should put that glass down. Do you want me to phone Derek and tell him that his baby mama is an alcoholic?" she asked.

"I won't be anymore in less than twenty-four hours," I answered.

I'll be jobless and probably ruined.

I couldn't help but laugh at my misery. Doing the right thing was not going to be easy.

Loud cheers were erupting from the far end of the bar. I couldn't help but look.

Surprisingly, the star of that show and the reason for all the loud cheers happened to be Vincent Montenegro. He was standing right on top of the table as he drank a bottle of hard liquor without taking any pauses. The crowd cheered, clapping their hands in unison as they yelled, 'Drink, drink!

Surprisingly, he managed to complete the task in just under two minutes. He raised the empty bottle, showing his victory as the cheers became louder.

I'd hate to be his liver.

I didn't want to look at him for too long. He might notice, and then I'd be in big trouble. I was supposed to be pregnant.

While turning away from Vincent, my eyes caught something else, perhaps someone.

It was none other than Derek. HERE! Out of all places in the universe!

Why does the universe hate me this much?

He seemed to have quite an audience around him. There was a group of women around him, focused on the story he was telling them as they leaned in as close as they could, some even flirting. He seemed not to mind any of it. Did he go to bars to pick up women?

Wasn't he supposed to be at a family dinner?

I was an absolute failure in life. I couldn't even do one thing right or trust anyone. Just when I thought that he was perhaps the only real thing in my life, I was proven wrong once again.

I saw him turn toward me in my direction. I quickly turned away, covering myself with my hair. I held Ivy's hand firmly so she wouldn't turn around. Hopefully, he was too drunk to notice.

"Derek is right behind us," I whispered to her.

Ivy froze. After everything, having him recognize us was the worst thing possible.

Ivy already had a negative encounter with Derek, so she was not too keen on another meeting, let alone in a place like this.

"We should leave," I told her.

We climbed off our stools. I took the last couple of dollar notes I had left in my pocket and handed them to the bartender.

Trying to remain hidden in a crowded place proved to be easy.

Once I was almost out of the door, I turned around to see if he might have noticed something. He had turned around to continue his conversation with Vincent, who had now approached him.

Letting him find out that I was drinking before he found out I wasn't pregnant would turn out to be a double disaster. I couldn't afford any more mistakes.

I may have dodged a bullet, but I was already in enough trouble as it was.