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Consolation 

He was just finishing his first beer when she sat down next to him at the bar.

“Ready for another?” she said.

“Huh?”

“Another drink? Looks like you’re empty. If you’re thirsty, I’m buying.” She gestured for the bartender.

Strange women rarely bought him drinks, particularly pretty ones, but he wasn’t sure he was in the mood for this. “Thanks. But I’m probably not the best of company right now.”

She laughed, but it was a sad sound. “I hear that. But if you’re feeling as down as you look, you could use someone to drink with. I know I sure as hell could- consider it a favor to me.”

He looked at her appraisingly. Nice figure, flawless skin, hair that begged to be tangled within your fingers. “You’re awfully dressed up for a dive like this.”

“I just escaped from a wedding reception.” Glossy lips in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“That’s funny. I’m here hiding from a wedding, myself.” He nodded at the bartender who was setting down their drinks.

“Your own?” He couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. He chose not to think about it and instead gave a short, bitter laugh.

“Nope. She is marrying someone else. I never thought she’d actually go through with it. Not with everything between us, you know? He’s just…so wrong for her. But there was nothing more I could do.” He shrugged.

Her small, warm hand rested on his arm. “Does she know how you feel? Did you tell her?”

“Yeah. It didn’t matter, though.”

“At least you tried. I just sat through the wedding of the first man I ever thought I could be happy with, but I never told him. I thought he knew how I felt. It was complicated and I thought I had to give it time, to wait until things were more settled…but I waited too long. And now he’s married to someone who can’t possibly…” she trailed off and took a sip of her beer, leaving a trace of lipstick on the edge of the pint glass. “Anyway, it looks like we have something in common.”

“Looks like.” He turned and saw her looking at him, looking bold and vulnerable at the same time. He wanted to drown his hurt in her eyes and he knew, instinctively, that she needed him, too. He extended his hand. “I’m Roy, by the way.”

Her grasp was firm. “Nice to meet you, Roy. I’m Karen.”