His head shook as he looked down to his feet, taking the glass into his hand, and fidgeting with it. It didnât sting as much as he thought it would have, but only because he expected it. They didnât end well; the timing was off, and for the one time he thought heâd be a good guy, it turned and bit him in the arse.
It was New Yearâs eve; he thought that Imogen wouldnât be coming home, at least not today. So he went to a party, just a party to meet the new year. Even then, he wasnât in his usual mood for it, his mind away with her, focusing on the black box that was in his pocket. She knew she wasnât going to be there, but he felt the need to take it with him. And then the girl presented herself. She was nice, but he didnât have eyes for her. But they went outside, to talk, or so he thought, too lost to focus on what she was doing, what her aim was. Why would he have looked when he had a perfect girl for him? But still, the other leaned in and he was ready to let her down, gently, but fuck no. The universe worked against him, as it was at that moment that his Gen walked in.Â
It was done from there. She wouldnât even let him talk, listen to him. Nothing. And the moment she decided to walk out of his life - just fucking tragic. He knew that, Wade knew that, Greg knew that. It wasnât good; it wasnât pretty, and he found himself at the bottom.Â
But here she was, right in front of him.Â
He blew out the breath he didnât know he was holding. âCome on.â He said, looking up at her. âItâs a drink. One drink, thatâs all.â Marcus had no idea how to spin this. He felt as if nothing he was going to say was going to stabilize the thing between them. âIâm not asking you to marry me, or anything else. Just have a drink with me.â Oh, the irony.Â
Gen. The nickname he had used only brought up old memories, memories she had tried the past year to forget. It had been incredibly difficult, everything reminding her of him, it had been months until she had been able to unpack the box of her clothes that she had brought back from his apartment.Â
Not having any family left, she had the tendency to pour her all into her relationships, which could leave her heart shattered in the end. Imogen didnât want to close off her heart though, as the pain of it breaking was a reminder that she was still alive, that she could still feel. Something she had thought impossible after her parents and siblings had been taken from her. Perhaps she hadnât been the smartest with choosing her partners, first Roman, then Barnaby, then Marcus. None of them were perfect- she wasnât either. Imogen preferred someone rough around the edges, she always tried to fix them. Both herself and her partners. After Barnaby she hadnât been looking to jump into a new relationship and it had taken Marcus months of grafting to wear her down to go on a date with him. And then another, and another. They got along better than she had thought, their sense of humor similar and conversation flowing easily. By the time she had noticed her feelings for him she had already fallen hard. And it seemed like he had reciprocated her feelings. Of course she had noticed the many women looking at him while they were out together but she had never paid much attention to it. Maybe she shouldâve. Her trust in him had been misplaced, he cheated on her.Â
While she had the habit of trying to fix her boyfriends, she did not stick around when a glaring red flag stared into her eyes. Imogen wasnât a very forgiving or understanding person. Fool her once and you were done. There was no second chance.Â
Her instincts were telling her to say no, to apparate away and just have a drink by herself at her apartment, but her feet were stuck, her body was still reacting to him when it shouldnât. She couldnât bring herself to walk away. One drink. One drink and then she would leave. âYou might as well bring me a bottle of firewhiskey. Iâll need to be drunk to have a drink with you.âÂ