Chasing His Shadows

them, yet here she was, nursing a glass of whiskey she'd barely touched. The burn of the alcohol in her throat was nothing compared to the ache in her chest-a familiar v

e table, strong and assured. "You look like you're carrying the weight of the world," he said, his eyes fixed on her. "I guess I am," she replied, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "And what about you? You don't strike me as the type to spend your evening in a place like this." He smirked, a small, fleeting expression that barely reached his eyes. "Sometimes even the strongest need a distraction." The irony of his statement wasn't lost on her. "And you think I'm your distraction?" "Maybe," he said simply. "Or maybe you're mine." The words sent a shiver down her spine, though she couldn't say why. There was no denying the pull between them-a magnetic force that made her forget, just for a moment, the pain she'd been drowning in for months. "What's your name?" she asked, surprising herself. He leaned back, his gaze unwavering. "Let's keep things simple. No names, no pasts. Just two people sharing a moment." It was reckless. Stupid, even. But something about the idea appealed to her, offering a chance to escape from herself, if only for a little while. "Fine," she said, lifting her glass. "No names." They talked for hours, their conversation a dance of wit and flirtation, each word charged with unspoken longing. He was sharp and enigmatic, his words carrying an edge that both intrigued and unsettled her. And yet, for the first time in months,