I'm drunk. Fucking drunk, because I miss her. I miss her. We broke up two months ago and I feel like they're taking a part of me away

So, without thinking much, I arrive at my apartment, staggering, I grab my cell phone and dial her number that I still haven't dared to delete. I put my cell phone to my ear

"With how many...?" my drunk, serious voice growls when she answers “with how many fucking men have you dated since we broke up?”