Rose's attention was drawn to the deer head mounted over the bar,something about the glassy eyes that stared down at her, sent a chillthrough her. As she waited for Steve to move, that deer disturbed hermore than the leers of the bar patrons.In a possessive gesture, Steve took Rose by the hand and led her throughthe room to an empty table on the patio. Rose felt herself being ogledas they crossed the room. Rose could feel everyone mentally undressingher with their eyes. Reaching the empty table Steve was a perfectgentleman, and held her chair for her.A waiter showed up, his tone was rather sharp, "Whatcha drinkin?" Withoutasking Rose's preference, Steve ordered a Scotch for each of them. Rosesat as her hair blew in the wind and studied Steve's face and watched hiseyes drift down to her cleavage, which fit in perfectly with her plans;she leaned in a little to give her companion a better view and hopefullydistract him. She assumed an attitude that she anticipated wouldintimidate. Yeah. For a while. A long while. Stuff has been piling up for a while.”“How long is ‘a while,’ Molly?” I asked incredulously, no longer slouching on the bed.“I didn’t exactly mark down the day.” Molly replied lamely. She chuckled slightly, but the chuckle quickly turned into an uncomfortable cough as her eyes welled up. “I don’t ... like myself. I really don’t like myself. I started drinking a long time ago. I was smart about it, I knew to only drink if I thought you weren’t going to barge in or if you were out or something...”My face flooded with guilt as I realized that whenever I was out having sex with some college girl, Molly was hating herself and drinking her problems away, slowly destabilizing. All this time and I could have seen the signs, I could have helped her if I wasn’t so obsessed with getting another notch on my belt.“ ... and it was nice.” Molly continued. “Probably bad for me, but at least it felt nice. I forgot a lot when I was drunk. I’d wake up and see I texted.
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