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Gambles of the Heart

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She knew it was a bad idea the moment she stepped inside of the bar. Bridget Westfall didn’t go to places like these - places where the patrons came for two goals only: to get very, very drunk or to do things they were going to regret in the morning. Tonight, Bridget was there do accomplish both of those. Walking towards the bar, she ordered an absinthe. She might as well get to work on realising the former. Quickly, the bartender - an attractive girl, but much too young for her - provided her with the peridot-coloured drink, a spoon with a cube of sugar balancing on top of the decorated glass. La fée verte to help her forget green eyes. She grasped the sweetener between her thumb and forefinger and set it onto the lacquered mahogany surface in front of her. The girl eyed her confusedly; very little patrons would ever try to drink a green fairy without the sugar to battle the bitterness, but tonight, it was just what Bridget needed. She raised the glass to her lips and let the harsh liquid burn the back of her throat, tears collecting in her eyes.



Bridget wasn’t exactly sure how many drinks she had had, and truthfully, she didn’t really care. What she did know, was that currently she was dancing with the most beautiful woman in the entire place. She thought her name was Lana. Or Lena. In any case, bronze-coloured hands were keeping her hips close to the other woman’s. Her eyes were the darkest brown, her hair a warm auburn. Lana or Lena was at least Bridget’s age, if not older. She couldn’t possibly be further from the woman she was trying to forget.

But damn it, she wasn’t helping her forget. Every motion reminded her of how wrong this felt, and how right it felt when Franky touched her. How right it had felt from the very beginning. How the younger woman had never touched her the wrong way. How she missed having her.


Suddenly, Bridget shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” she whispered, her words slightly slurred. Lana or Lena gave her a gentle smile.

“You’re not over her. It’s in your eyes.”


Bridget reached into her purse and grabbed her phone, pressing ‘2’ on her speed dial.

“Could you come pick me up, please?”