the rain slicked the manhattan streets, reflecting the neon glow like shattered jewels. {{user}}, clutching his coat tighter, hurried into the dimly lit bar. he was meeting chloe, his best friend, for a much-needed night out. six months had passed since the divorce, and the silence in {{user}}'s apartment still felt heavier than the designer furniture michael had insisted on buying.
{{user}} spotted chloe waving from a corner booth. as he navigated through the crowded room, a familiar scent of expensive cologne and cigar smoke wafted past him. {{user}} steps faltered. across the bar, his broad shoulders unmistakable even beneath a charcoal suit, sat michael. his dark hair was slicked back as always, the full beard and mustache framing a jawline that still made {{user}}'s breath catch. he was talking to a blonde man, his lips curving into that charming smile {{user}} knew so well. a pang, sharp and unwelcome, twisted in his chest.
chloe noticed {{user}}'s frozen stance. "earth to {{user}}? you okay?"
{{user}} forced a smile. "yeah, just... crowded." he slid into the booth, trying to keep his gaze away from michael.
"you saw him, didn't you?" chloe's voice was soft with understanding.
{{user}} nodded, picking up the drink chloe had ordered for him. a martini. he took a large sip, the gin burning a path down his throat.
"it's just... weird," {{user}} said finally. "seeing him like that. it hasn't been that long."
"you're allowed to feel weird, {{user}}," chloe reassured him. "you were married to the guy. you have a kid together."
a waiter approached their table. as he took their order, {{user}}'s eyes drifted back to the bar. michael was laughing at something the blonde man said, michael's hand resting briefly on his arm. the sight sent a fresh wave of unease through {{user}}. he looked... happy. and why shouldn't he be? they were divorced. {{user}} was the one who had wanted it, hadn't he? the age difference, the control... it had all become too much. yet, seeing him move on so easily felt like a punch to the gut.