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The evening buzzed with the usual lively chatter of the bar—laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the soft hum of music filtering through the air. Sophie stepped inside, immediately enveloped by the warm, inviting atmosphere of Beth’s Bar. The familiar scent of aged wood and the faint aroma of beer welcomed her, bringing a smile to her face. She hadn’t seen Beth since the early morning and found herself missing her girlfriend’s presence more than she’d expected.
She quickly spotted Beth behind the bar, a blur of motion as she poured drinks and chatted with customers. Beth had that focused look she always wore during busy nights, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Sophie couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly she seemed to command the room, moving with a confidence that made her stand out even in the dimly lit bar.
Not wanting to interrupt while Beth was busy, Sophie decided to bide her time and wait until things quieted down. She wandered through the bar, taking in the sights and sounds, her eyes eventually landing on a group gathered around a billiard table in the corner. A game was underway, and she found herself drawn to it, intrigued by the concentration and skill of the players.
As she moved closer, she could see the game was a lively one. There were four players, two men and two women, all around their mid-thirties. One of the men, a tall, burly guy with a beard, was lining up a shot. He had a focused expression, his brow furrowed as he leaned over the table, his cue held steady. He took his shot, the cue ball cracking sharply against another, sending it rolling smoothly into a corner pocket. His face broke into a grin, and his partner—a petite woman with curly hair and a quick smile—clapped him on the back, laughing.
Next to them, a woman with a sleek bob haircut, dressed in a leather jacket, was chalking her cue. She had an intense look in her eyes, clearly the most competitive of the group. Her partner, a man with a friendly face and a laid-back demeanor—Bill, Sophie would later learn—stood by her side, offering tips and nodding along as she spoke. He seemed to be the self-appointed coach, his gaze shifting from player to player, gauging their moves, offering pointers, and keeping the energy light.
Sophie found herself captivated by the game. She’d never really watched billiards up close, and she marveled at the way the players moved—their precision, their focus, the way they seemed to calculate each shot with a mix of strategy and intuition. She watched how they held their cues, how they bent low over the table, and she noticed the slight shift in their weight as they prepared to strike. Without realizing it, she began to mimic their movements, her hands forming the same grip she observed, her body unconsciously mirroring their stances.
She was so engrossed in the game that she didn’t notice Bill watching her from the side. He grinned, noticing her mimicking the players' moves. “Hey there,” he called out, snapping her out of her concentration. Sophie blinked and turned toward him, caught off guard. “Wanna play?”
Sophie felt a flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. “Oh, no, I don’t really know how,” she admitted with a small, awkward laugh. “I’ve never played before.”
The rest of the group turned to her, their expressions friendly and welcoming. “Come on,” said the woman in the leather jacket, her competitive edge softened by a warm smile. “You’ve been watching us for a while now. Give it a try!”
Encouraged by their warmth and friendliness, Sophie decided to give it a go. “Alright,” she said with a grin, her earlier shyness fading. “Why not?”
Bill stepped forward with a nod, handing her a cue stick. “Don’t worry,” he said, his tone reassuring. “I’ll teach you the basics. It’s all about your stance and aim. Let’s start with your grip.”
Sophie felt a mix of excitement and nerves as Bill guided her through the basics of billiards. He moved in close, his hands gently adjusting her grip on the cue. “Relax your shoulders,” he advised, his voice calm and steady. “It’s all about precision, not power.”
Sophie tried to follow his instructions, but her first shot was far from perfect. The cue ball veered off course, tapping a stripe instead of the solid ball she was aiming for. A nervous laugh escaped her lips, and she glanced up at Bill, half-expecting him to be disappointed.
But Bill just grinned. “Not bad for a first try! You’re getting the hang of it.”
The group around the table chimed in with encouraging words, their energy infectious. Sophie smiled, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders. She took another shot, but this time, she hit the cue ball too hard, and it bounced off the table’s edge, rolling to a stop far from any of the pockets. A collective “ooh” echoed from the onlookers, but it was followed by more cheers and claps.
“Don’t worry about it!” one of the players called out. “We’ve all been there.”
Bill stepped in again, his hands guiding hers back into position. “Remember, it’s about finesse,” he said softly. “Try a lighter touch this time. Focus on where you want the ball to go.”
Sophie took a deep breath and tried again, this time focusing on the angle and the pressure. The cue ball rolled smoothly, striking the intended ball, which wobbled but didn’t quite make it to the pocket. Still, it was a vast improvement, and the group erupted into applause.
“Now you’re talking!” Bill said with a wink, clapping her on the back. “You’ll be a pro in no time.”
He gently nudged her feet apart, helping her find the right balance. “Keep your feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed, moving her right foot back slightly. “Bend your knees just a bit. You want to be able to move smoothly without losing your balance.”
Sophie did her best to mirror his instructions, feeling a bit like a beginner learning to ride a bike. Her movements were hesitant, her body stiff as she tried to remember all the details. Bill noticed her tension and chuckled softly. “Relax, Sophie. It’s just a game. Let your body move naturally.”
Taking a deep breath, Sophie tried to loosen up, shaking out her shoulders a little. Bill stepped back slightly, giving her space to take her first shot. “Now, lean forward and rest the cue on your other hand like this.” He demonstrated the bridge position, forming a V-shape with his fingers. “It’ll give you more control over the shot.”
Sophie mimicked the bridge position, her left hand trembling slightly as she tried to steady the cue. She leaned forward, the smooth wood sliding against her fingers as she lined up her shot. Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and nerves, and she could feel the group’s eyes on her.
“Focus on the cue ball,” Bill instructed softly, his voice steadying her nerves. “Aim for the spot you want to hit. Don’t rush it; take your time.”
Sophie took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in her chest. She lined up the shot as best as she could and then, with a determined push, sent the cue ball rolling toward the cluster of balls at the other end of the table. The ball connected with a solid thud, sending the others scattering. The target ball wobbled on the edge of a pocket, hesitated, and then rolled in with a soft clink.
A burst of cheers erupted from the group around her. “Nice shot!” the bearded man exclaimed, clapping his hands together. The woman with the curly hair flashed Sophie a bright smile, her eyes shining with approval. Even the competitive woman with the leather jacket gave her an appreciative nod.
Sophie’s heart soared with pride, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Did you see that?” she asked, a mix of disbelief and excitement in her voice.
Bill laughed, giving her a friendly pat on the back. “I told you, you’ve got a natural talent! Just needed a little guidance.” His praise felt genuine, and Sophie found herself relaxing even more.
The game continued, with Sophie gradually getting the hang of it. Bill continued to guide her, showing her different techniques—how to add spin to the ball, how to angle her shots for better precision. Each time she tried, she could feel herself improving, her shots becoming more controlled and accurate. The group kept up their encouragement, each successful shot met with cheers and laughter that filled the air, making the bar feel even warmer and more welcoming.
At one point, Bill stepped back and let Sophie take the lead, watching as she lined up her shot without his assistance. She leaned forward, her stance more confident, her grip surer. She took the shot, and the ball sailed across the table, knocking another ball cleanly into the pocket. The group erupted into applause once again, and Sophie’s smile grew even wider.
“Look at you, pro in the making!” Bill teased, raising his glass in a mock toast to her. Sophie laughed, feeling a rush of happiness that came from both the thrill of learning something new and the camaraderie of the group. The nerves she’d felt earlier were long gone, replaced by a growing sense of enjoyment and connection with the people around her.
After a few more attempts, Sophie finally managed to sink a ball into a corner pocket. The group erupted into applause, and the man with the beard let out a cheer, raising his glass in celebration. “Now you’re getting it!” he exclaimed, his grin wide. They ordered another round of beers, their enthusiasm infectious.
Beth, who had been busy behind the bar, looked over at the sudden burst of cheering. Her eyes widened slightly when she spotted Sophie at the billiard table, clearly having a good time. She hadn’t even realized Sophie was there. A smile crept onto her face, amused and touched that Sophie had decided to drop by. She waved from behind the bar, and Sophie, caught up in the moment, waved back before quickly returning her focus to the game.
As the night wore on, Sophie gradually started to improve at the game. Though she wasn't an expert, her shots were becoming more accurate, and the group around her was generous with tips and encouragement. She began to relax, enjoying both the challenge of learning something new and the camaraderie of the people she was with. It felt good to be part of the action, to share in the laughter and light-hearted competition.
However, as Sophie grew more comfortable, she noticed a subtle shift in Bill's behavior. At first, his guidance had been helpful and friendly, but now, he was standing closer than necessary, his hand lingering on her shoulder a little too long, his touch becoming increasingly familiar. The warmth and friendliness she had felt earlier began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of unease.
She tried to concentrate on the game, but the discomfort was hard to ignore. Whenever Bill moved too close, she edged away, hoping he would notice her discomfort and back off. But Bill didn’t seem to get the hint. His hand brushed against her back as she lined up a shot, causing her to tense up, her grip on the cue tightening in response. She glanced around at the rest of the group, silently hoping someone would pick up on her discomfort, but they were either too engrossed in their own conversations or didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
The tension in her grew as Bill leaned in closer, this time sliding his hand over hers on the cue. “Here,” he murmured, his breath warm and unwelcome near her ear, “let me show you a better grip.”
Sophie stiffened, her unease turning into a tight knot in her stomach. She looked around, seeking an escape, and caught the eye of one of the other players—a woman who had been friendly and quick to laugh all evening. The woman, oblivious to Sophie’s discomfort, handed her a glass of beer with a smile. Sophie reached for it, seeing it as a potential distraction.
She downed the whole thing in one go. It was bitter, but there was a hint of sweetness that brought a smile to her lips. Sophie wasn’t usually a fan of alcohol; it was always too harsh, too bitter, and the burn in her throat never seemed worth it. But this… this wasn’t as bad.
Sophie’s mind drifted to the early days of the bar, back when she and Beth were still figuring things out. Beth had noticed early on that Sophie wasn’t much of a drinker, and she’d gotten creative. Beth would spend hours concocting different mixes, trying to find the perfect blend that Sophie could tolerate. Eventually, she’d hit on a combination that kept the bitterness at bay, replacing it with a subtle sweetness that Sophie found oddly addictive.
Sophie had become Beth’s unofficial taste tester, always the first to try any new cocktail ideas Beth was experimenting with. It was during those quiet moments, after the bar had closed and they were cleaning up, that Sophie loved so much. They’d laugh over ridiculous flavor combinations, share stories about their day, and before long, the Bar rose to the top quick and steady.
Those early days felt like a lifetime ago now, but the memory brought a warmth to Sophie’s heart. She smiled fondly at the memory of Beth leaning over the bar, pushing a glass toward her with a teasing smirk, saying, “Try this one, you’ll like it, I promise.”
Her eyes softened at the memory, and she let out a soft laugh. The affection she felt for Beth had only grown since Clarington, deepening into something solid, something she couldn’t imagine living without. Beth had been her anchor, her protector, her biggest supporter. Sophie looked around the bustling bar now, feeling a surge of pride that this place had become so much more than a business—it was home.
Lost in her memories, Sophie didn’t realize how light-headed she’d become until she tried to line up her next shot. Her vision swam slightly, and her hands wobbled as she tried to steady the cue stick. Her earlier decent shots now felt impossible, and she let out an unsteady giggle as the cue ball rolled off-target, not even coming close to hitting the intended ball.
The group around her burst into laughter, teasing her good-naturedly. “Looks like someone’s a lightweight!” one of the players joked, grinning as Sophie swayed slightly on her feet.
Sophie blinked, trying to focus, but the edges of her vision started to blur. It was subtle at first—just a hazy softness around the room that made everything seem a little too bright, a little too fuzzy. She giggled, the sound bubbling out of her without much thought. “I’m fine,” she slurred, but even to her own ears, it didn’t sound convincing. The words tumbled out, disjointed, like she had to put effort into shaping each syllable.
“You sure about that?” another player teased, raising an eyebrow. “You’re starting to look like you can’t even see straight.”
Sophie squinted, trying to prove them wrong, but the more she focused, the harder it became to keep things steady. The pool table, which had seemed so clear earlier, was now swimming before her eyes, the balls blurring into each other. She blinked rapidly, trying to force her vision back into focus, but it only made the room spin faster.
“You okay there?” one of the players asked with a grin, clearly enjoying Sophie’s descent into tipsiness. “You’re walking like you’re on a boat or something.”
Sophie laughed, but it was cut short when she stumbled slightly, catching herself on the edge of the pool table. The room tilted and swirled, and she had to blink a few times to make sense of where she was. Her head was swimming now, and her legs were starting to feel like they might give out at any moment.
“Maybe she’s already had enough,” someone else chimed in, grinning as they handed Sophie another drink, just to see if she could handle it.
She waved them off, trying to steady herself, but her hand missed the glass entirely, knocking it over. “Oops,” she giggled, wobbling on her feet again.
“Yep, definitely a lightweight!” they teased, all of them laughing good-naturedly, though Sophie’s mind was spinning too much to care. Her focus drifted in and out, the sounds of the bar growing louder and then fading again as if the whole room were swaying along with her.
Each shot she attempted grew sloppier than the last, her hands shaking as she tried to aim, but the balls seemed to slide across the table like they had minds of their own. At one point, she hit the wrong ball entirely, sending it skittering across the floor.
Her vision was swimming again, the once lively bar now nothing more than a blur of lights and faces. The teasing continued, someone calling out, “Bet you won’t make the next shot!”
“I will! I will!” Sophie giggled, though her attempt at confidence faltered as she swayed again, missing the cue ball entirely on her next shot. The group erupted in laughter once more.
“You’re done for the night, Soph,” another friend said, shaking their head playfully. “Maybe sit down before you fall over.”
Sophie opened her mouth to protest, but she couldn’t deny it anymore. She could barely keep herself upright, her head too light, her feet too unsteady. It was like the room had turned into a carnival ride, tilting and spinning with every breath she took.
Before she could think of sitting down, she felt a hand on her arm. Bill, who had been watching the whole time, stepped in smoothly, guiding her away from the pool table. “Let’s get you some air,” he murmured, his voice low, a bit too close. “You’re looking a little wobbly there.”
Sophie blinked up at him, her head swimming. Her legs felt like they could give out any second, and without thinking, she let him lead her toward the door, too light-headed to object. But something about his touch made her skin prickle with unease.
Sophie’s head spun, and her body felt heavy, like her limbs were moving through water. Before she could protest, Bill began leading her away from the group, guiding her toward the door. Her vision blurred, and she stumbled, struggling to keep her balance. It all felt wrong, but she couldn’t quite form the words to stop him.
Before Bill could take another step, a familiar voice cut through the haze.
“Sophie!” Beth’s voice cut through the noise of the bar like a sharp blade, its calm, commanding tone laced with urgency. Despite the chaos swirling around her, Sophie’s foggy mind immediately latched onto the sound of her girlfriend's voice, a lifeline in the haze. Her head felt heavy, her vision slightly blurred, but when she turned and spotted Beth a few feet away, the world seemed to come into sharper focus.
Beth’s expression was controlled, but Sophie could see the storm brewing behind her eyes—blazing with anger, worry, and protectiveness. Relief washed over Sophie at the sight of her, and without thinking, she flashed a lopsided grin, her voice too loud, too carefree for the situation. “My girlfriend! Beth! I love you!” she shouted, her words slurred but sincere.
For a brief moment, Beth’s steely exterior cracked, a flicker of warmth softening her features as a small, amused smile tugged at her lips. “I love you too,” she replied, her voice gentle, but the amusement didn’t reach her eyes, which were already locking onto Bill like a predator assessing a threat.
Beth moved toward them, each step deliberate, her posture deceptively calm though every fiber of her being radiated quiet fury. Sophie could feel it—the tension in the air, the way Beth’s gaze never wavered from Bill as she closed the distance between them. When she spoke again, her tone was low but firm, leaving no room for negotiation. “I’ll take it from here, Bill.”
Bill’s smile faltered, his grip on Sophie lingering for just a second too long. He hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face as if debating whether to challenge Beth’s claim. But the intensity in her gaze was enough to make him think twice. He slowly loosened his hold on Sophie, raising his hands in a show of false innocence. “Hey, I was just trying to help—”
Beth cut him off with a voice that could’ve frozen fire. “You’ve done enough.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken warning. Around them, the bar had gone eerily quiet, the casual chatter and laughter of the patrons fading into a tense silence. The other pool players, who had been obliviously enjoying their game moments before, now watched the scene unfold with wide, curious eyes, their amusement quickly turning to unease.
Bill opened his mouth as if to defend himself, but one glance at Beth’s cold, unyielding stare stopped him in his tracks. Whatever excuses he had vanished as he mumbled something under his breath and slinked away, disappearing into the crowd, his bravado shattered.
The moment he was gone, Beth turned her full attention to Sophie. Her hands were gentle but firm as she wrapped an arm around Sophie’s waist, pulling her close to steady her. Sophie, who had been swaying unsteadily on her feet, practically melted into Beth’s embrace, her body heavy with exhaustion. “Come on,” Beth whispered softly, her earlier anger dissolving into concern as she brushed a hand through Sophie’s hair. “Let’s get you home.”
Sophie mumbled something incoherent, leaning her head against Beth’s shoulder, her breath warm against Beth’s neck. “You’re the best, Beth…” she slurred, her words tumbling over each other. “Best bartender, best girlfriend… love you…”
Beth’s heart ached at the sight of her, a mixture of affection and protectiveness flooding her chest. She chuckled softly, her earlier tension fading as she held Sophie close. “I love you too, Soph,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Sophie’s head. But even as she comforted her girlfriend, Beth’s eyes scanned the bar, ensuring everything was under control.
She quickly caught the eye of one of her most trusted employees, who had been watching the scene from behind the bar. With a quick nod, Beth’s voice carried over the subdued murmur of the crowd. “Close up early tonight. And make sure everything’s locked up tight.”
Her employee gave a brisk nod, already moving to follow her instructions.
With Sophie leaning heavily against her, Beth guided her through the bar, weaving between tables and chairs as she made her way toward the exit. As they stepped outside, the cool night air hit them, refreshing and crisp compared to the stifling warmth of the bar. The sounds of the city surrounded them—cars passing by, distant chatter, the faint hum of nightlife—but all Beth could think about was getting Sophie home, away from the noise and the lingering dangers of the bar.
One good thing about owning a bar is that your home needs to be close—it was on the Owning a Bar 101 book. The tricky part is leading your spiked girlfriend to the room.
Beth chuckled as she helped Sophie, who was giggling uncontrollably, stumble toward the apartment building. “Come on, Soph, one foot in front of the other,” she encouraged, gently tightening her grip around Sophie’s waist.
Sophie leaned her head against Beth’s shoulder, her voice soft and dreamy. “I love you, Beth. You’re... you’re so beautiful,” she slurred, her words tumbling out in a wave of affection.
Beth smiled, her heart swelling. “I love you too, bean,” she replied, her tone playful yet tender. “But I’d love you even more if you moved a bit to the left—you’re about to walk into that plant.”
Sophie glanced at the plant and giggled, swaying slightly as she tried to correct her path. “Oops! You’re the best, Beth. Best bartender, best girlfriend, best... plant guide.”
Beth laughed, guiding Sophie through the building’s entrance. “Best plant guide, huh? I’ll add that to my resume.”
They made it to the elevator, and as the doors slid open, Sophie immediately leaned into Beth, resting her forehead against her. “You smell so good... like vanilla and... and home,” Sophie mumbled, closing her eyes as if savoring the moment.
Beth shook her head, grinning. “You’re a handful tonight, Soph. Come on, let’s get you upstairs before you fall asleep right here.”
As the elevator began its ascent, Sophie tilted her head up and kissed Beth’s shoulder. “Did I tell you I love you?”
Beth laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Sophie’s face. “Only about five times in the last minute. But you can keep going.”
Sophie beamed up at her, eyes half-lidded and warm. “I love you. I’d say it a hundred times if you want.”
Beth’s expression softened, and she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Sophie’s forehead. “I know you would. And I’d love you even more if you scooted just a bit to the right—I’m trying to hit the button for our floor.”
Sophie giggled again, scooting over just enough to let Beth press the button. As the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival, Sophie leaned into Beth once more. “Beth?”
“Yeah, bean?”
“I love you,” Sophie said, her voice quieter this time, almost sleepy, but still filled with sincerity.
Beth’s heart melted. “I love you too, Soph. Now let’s get you to bed before you turn into a puddle of love confessions.”
They stepped out of the elevator, and Beth wrapped her arm around Sophie a little tighter, steering her toward their apartment door. Even though it had been a long night, every affectionate word from Sophie made it all seem less.
As Beth unlocked the apartment door, Sophie was still leaning heavily against her, murmuring more half-coherent love confessions. “You’re the prettiest... I don’t know how I got so lucky... I love you so much,” Sophie mumbled, her words slurring even more as sleepiness began to take over.
Beth chuckled softly, guiding Sophie through the door. "You got lucky because I'm a sucker for charming drunks," she teased, kicking the door shut behind them. “Please lift your feet a bit, bean—those shoes aren’t coming off by themselves.”
Sophie, barely awake, obediently lifted one foot, but it only made her wobble even more. Beth quickly steadied her, pulling her into a gentle embrace before crouching down to help Sophie out of her shoes.
“There we go,” Beth said, straightening up and leading Sophie toward the couch. “Come on, you need to sit down for a minute before I take you to bed.”
Sophie plopped onto the couch, still holding onto Beth’s hand like it was a lifeline. “You... you’re like my favorite person in the whole world,” Sophie murmured, her eyelids drooping as she fought to stay awake.
Beth sat down next to her, brushing a soft kiss against Sophie’s temple. “And you’re mine, Soph,” she whispered. “Now stay awake long enough for me to get you some water, okay?”
Sophie nodded, though her head was already resting on Beth’s shoulder, her breathing slowing. “Water... right,” she mumbled, but her grip on Beth’s hand never loosened.
Beth sighed softly, knowing Sophie wasn’t going anywhere. She reached over to the side table, grabbing a throw blanket and draping it over Sophie’s curled-up form. “You can sleep here for a bit, love,” Beth murmured, stroking Sophie’s hair as her girlfriend finally drifted off completely.
Beth leaned back against the couch, still holding Sophie close. “I love you, bean,” she whispered, her words soft in the quiet of the apartment. Sophie, oblivious, let out a tiny, contented snore, making Beth chuckle. She pulled the blanket tighter around them both, settling in for the night, content to just be there with Sophie in her arms.
Once Sophie’s breathing evened out, she slowly got up and sat on the opposite chair, staring at Sophie’s sleeping form on the couch, the reality of what had happened weighing heavy on her chest. The anger simmering beneath her skin flared up again, hotter this time. She stood up and started to pace. Her thoughts swirled violently, but then she looked down at Sophie again. Her sleeping form, curled up on the couch, seemed too vulnerable. The anger took a backseat to worry.
The couch wasn’t where Sophie should be resting, not like this.
With a sigh, Beth leaned down and gently scooped Sophie up into her arms. She moved carefully, trying not to wake her, and carried her into their bedroom. Sophie stirred slightly but didn’t wake, snuggling closer to Beth’s chest as she laid her down on the bed.
Beth opened the door to reveal their well-kept room, a reflection of Sophie’s meticulous habits from her days as a hotel maid. The bed was perfectly made, the sheets crisp and smooth, with not a wrinkle in sight. The floor was spotless, and everything had its place—neatly folded clothes on the dresser, shoes lined up against the wall, and not a speck of dust on the shelves. Sophie’s influence was everywhere, her attention to detail carried over into their shared space.
But amidst the order, there were pockets of chaos, places that told the story of their life together. The nightstand on Beth’s side was cluttered with items—scattered books, a half-empty glass of water, and a couple of hair ties thrown haphazardly next to a framed photograph of the two of them, taken on their last trip to the beach. Beth’s arm was slung around Sophie’s shoulders, both of them grinning wide at the camera. Other small photos of their moments together—dates, holidays, lazy afternoons—were scattered around the room, tucked into the edges of the mirror or pinned to a corkboard above Sophie’s desk.
Next to the photographs were other little tokens of their relationship: a pair of mismatched socks Sophie had kicked off after a long day, a lipstick Beth had stolen from Sophie’s makeup bag, and a small stuffed animal—a bear—that Sophie had won for Beth at a carnival, now sitting proudly on the shelf above the bed.
Beth smiled softly at the sight. Even in the chaos, there was comfort. This room was theirs, filled with the love and memories they’d built together.
Beth pulled the covers up to Sophie’s shoulders, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She lingered there for a moment, watching the peaceful rise and fall of her girlfriend’s chest. She’s safe now.
After making sure Sophie was tucked in and comfortable, Beth quietly slipped out of the room and stepped onto the small balcony adjoining their apartment. She closed the door behind her, careful not to make any noise. The cool night air hit her skin, a welcome contrast to the swirling heat of her anger. With a shaky breath, she pulled a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket, lighting one with the ease of habit.
As she took her first drag, Beth stared out into the night, the city lights twinkling below like tiny, indifferent stars. The nicotine hit her bloodstream, providing a momentary sense of calm, but her thoughts remained anything but peaceful.
What the hell just happened?
Beth’s hand trembled slightly as she exhaled a plume of smoke, her mind replaying the events of the night. Sophie, her Sophie, had been drugged. At their bar, under Beth's watch. Her grip tightened around the cigarette, her jaw clenched as she imagined all the horrible "what-ifs."
What if I hadn’t been paying attention? What if I hadn’t seen her in time? What if…
Beth couldn’t even finish the thought. Her stomach twisted in knots, and a fresh wave of rage surged through her. She felt helpless. The kind of helplessness that made her want to punch a wall, scream into the night, or track down the bastard responsible and tear them apart.
And then there was Bill. Bill
She flicked the ash from her cigarette with more force than necessary. He’d always seemed like a decent guy, harmless enough, but tonight… her gut had screamed at her that something was off. And her gut was rarely wrong. Even if he hadn’t spiked the drink, he was trying to get advantage of a drunk Sophie. If Beth hadn’t spotted them Bill could have taken Soph- Beth cut down the idea
Bill’s never setting foot in my bar again , she thought bitterly, taking another drag.
Her thoughts kept circling back to Sophie, now asleep just a few feet away. Beth’s heart ached as she pictured Sophie lying there, so vulnerable, trusting, and kind-hearted. It made her blood boil to think someone had tried to take advantage of that.
Beth took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Her mind, however, was already spinning with plans. She’d have to talk to Alan, find out who was responsible. There’d be no mercy when she found them.
The telephone rang, slicing through the quiet apartment. Beth jumped, quickly snatching the telephone off the wall before it could wake Sophie. She pressed it to her ear, her voice sharp but quiet. "What?" As she exited and went to the balcony again
“Uh, hey, Beth? It’s Alan,” came the nervous voice on the other end. “I just wanted to give you a rundown about what happened tonight. You know, with the tabs and everything, I—”
Beth wasn’t really listening, not fully. She was too wrapped up in her thoughts, the image of Bill and Sophie at the bar flashing through her mind. Her jaw clenched, and without even meaning to, she cut Alan off mid-sentence.
“I don’t want to see Bill again.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of Alan sputtering. “W-what? But he’s one of the regulars. Like, he’s there almost every night—”
“I don’t care,” Beth snapped, her voice low and cold. “I don’t want him in the bar again. Got it?”
Alan hesitated, clearly unsure how to respond, but after a beat, he muttered, “Y-yeah, sure, boss. Whatever you say.”
Beth didn’t even bother responding. She ended the call with a sharp click and took another drag from her cigarette, staring out into the night.
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The morning light filtered gently through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the apartment. Beth woke early, as was her habit, and glanced over at Sophie, still asleep and nestled under the covers. The sight of her girlfriend’s peaceful face eased some of the tension that had built up in Beth’s chest. She sat quietly for a few moments, taking in the serene expression on Sophie’s face, and the faint, rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.
With a careful touch, Beth rose from the bed and headed to the kitchen, determined to make a good breakfast to help Sophie recover from the rough night. She moved efficiently, setting up the kitchen and starting on pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. The smell of breakfast soon began to fill the apartment, a comforting aroma that would hopefully help ease Sophie’s hangover.
Sophie, on the other hand, woke with a pounding headache that felt like a jackhammer inside her skull. She tried to sit up but was instantly overwhelmed by nausea. With a groan, she stumbled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, clutching her head and feeling the room spin around her.
The bathroom door creaked open, and Sophie made her way to the sink, leaning over it as waves of dizziness washed over her. She managed to brace herself before her stomach betrayed her, and she began to throw up violently. The retching noises echoed off the tiles, and Beth, hearing the commotion, was at the bathroom door in an instant.
“Hey, Soph, it’s okay,” Beth said softly, her voice filled with concern as she opened the door and stepped inside. She knelt beside Sophie, gently holding her hair back and rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I’m here. Just let it out.”
Sophie’s eyes were shut tight as she heaved, each wave of nausea making her feel weaker. Beth stayed close, providing comfort and support as the worst of it passed. When Sophie finally stopped, she slumped against the wall, her face pale and sweaty.
Beth quickly filled a glass with water and handed it to Sophie, encouraging her to sip slowly. “Here, drink a little bit at a time. It’ll help.”
Sophie took a few sips but had to stop, feeling like even the smallest amount of water was too much for her stomach. She grimaced and leaned back, closing her eyes.
Beth stood up and went back to the kitchen, where she finished preparing a simple breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs, and a side of fruit. She carried the plates to the table and set them down, then went back to check on Sophie.
As Beth returned to the bathroom, she found Sophie sitting on the edge of the tub, looking utterly drained. Beth helped her to her feet and led her to the kitchen, gently guiding her to sit at the table. “I’ve got breakfast ready,” she said softly. “Try to eat something. It might help with the headache.”
Sophie sat down slowly, her eyes landing on the ashtray on the kitchen counter. It was clear that it had been recently used, with a few cigarette butts still visible. Her heart sank as she realized that Beth had been smoking last night, likely to calm herself down after the stressful events. Guilt washed over her, and she looked up at Beth with a pained expression.
“I’m so sorry about last night,” Sophie began, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble. I can’t believe—”
Beth shook her head and cut her off gently. “No, don’t apologize. I’m sorry, Soph. I should’ve been more vigilant. None of this should have happened.”
Sophie’s eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at Beth, her voice shaky. “But I should have realized the drink was off, or that Bill was being too friendly. I should’ve stopped him.”
Beth gave a soft, understanding smile and reached out to squeeze Sophie’s hand, the warmth between them tangible. “Soph, you can’t blame yourself for that. Neither of us saw it coming, and Bill has always seemed like a decent guy. How about this—we weren’t at fault, but let's promise to never let something like that happen again?”
Sophie nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude and relief at Beth’s words. The weight on her chest started to lift as she took a deep breath. Tentatively, she picked up a piece of toast and nibbled at it, the food helping to ease her headache as she took small sips of water. Throughout breakfast, their hands remained linked, as if the connection grounded them both.
Sophie reached for her glass of water, only to notice Beth watching her, eyes soft but curious. She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Beth shrugged, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “Just wondering… why were you at the bar last night? I thought you said you’d be home later than usual?”
Sophie’s face flushed instantly, the blush creeping up her neck as she squeezed Beth’s hand in response. She hesitated, her voice small. “I… missed you.”
Beth’s smile deepened, and her eyes softened even more. “Then why didn’t you come to the front? You know you’re always welcome there, Bean. We own the place together, after all.”
Sophie avoided her gaze, her cheeks still warm with embarrassment. “Because I didn’t want to disturb you. I just wanted to be where you were, even if it was just in the background.”
“Aww, Bean.” Beth’s tone was affectionate, her heart melting at Sophie’s shy admission. She leaned closer, her free hand brushing a strand of hair away from Sophie’s face. “You don’t ever disturb me, you know that, right?”
Sophie looked down, a bashful smile on her lips. “I didn’t want to get in the way. You were busy, and I didn’t want to make a fuss.”
Beth chuckled softly, pulling Sophie’s hand closer to her chest. “Sophie, you could never be a fuss. If you miss me, just come over, okay? We’re in this together. Even if the bar is packed, I’ll always have time for you.”
Sophie glanced up, her smile more relaxed now, a warmth spreading through her chest. “Okay,” she whispered. “But next time I miss you, don’t be surprised if I just… show up unannounced.”
Beth grinned, playfully tapping Sophie’s nose. “Deal. I might even get you behind the bar if you show up at the right time.”
Sophie giggled, the tension from earlier completely gone, replaced by the familiar ease between them. “I’ll hold you to that,” she teased.
The two sat there for a while longer, hands intertwined, the simple act of being together bringing them peace. Eventually, Beth shifted in her seat, a playful glint in her eyes as she glanced at the nearly empty breakfast plates. “Alright, now that we’ve established our feelings and eaten… You want to go back to bed and cuddle?”
“Yes!” Sophie the eagerness in her voice caused Beth to laugh.
Beth stood up and tugged Sophie gently by the hand. “Come on, Bean. Let’s get you back to bed.”
Sophie followed, her head still aching slightly but her heart light, the warmth of Beth’s hand in hers making everything else seem distant. As they crawled back into the soft sheets, Sophie immediately wrapped her arms around Beth, snuggling into her chest.
“I love this,” Sophie whispered, her voice sleepy but content.
Beth smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Sophie’s head. “me too.”
For a moment, there was only the sound of their steady breathing, the morning light filtering softly through the curtains. They stayed like that, tangled together in the quiet comfort of their shared space, their hands intertwined once again, as if to remind each other that they were never alone. And as Sophie drifted off to sleep once more, the last thing she heard was Beth’s soft voice whispering, “I love you.”