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throwing up there, bud?”
    Owen couldn't hear him over a dry heave.
    “Hey, isn't he that old boyfriend of yours?” asked the leering manager.
    “NO! I mean...yeah. But, we are done, I promise.”
    “Good, good. You can do way better than that waste of space.”
    Slowly rising to his feet, Owen attempted to walk toward the manager after hearing his insults. Unfortunately, by the time he staggered back to his feet, the manager had already went back inside, but not before grabbing Grace's ass. She didn't seem to mind. How he wanted to smash that prick's teeth down his throat. Owen could not stand being made a fool of, especially by an asshole who probably spent twenty minutes in front of the mirror, just to look at the definition of his abs.
    His thoughts changed when he noticed Grace slowly advancing. He prepared himself for a slap in the face, or even a kick to the balls. She had to be embarrassed, and that was something she detested. He was determined to take either willingly if it could resolve this situation. Instead, she calmly handed the wallet back to him without any drama.
    “Thanks,” he muttered without much emotion.
    “Owen...don't come back.”
    He stared at the gravel and kicked a few pebbles before replying. “How long have you two been talking?”
    “It's none of your business, but...we've been talking a few days before I came over that night. He's never gonna know about that.”
    “So...that's it, huh?” Lacking the confidence to win her back, Owen knew of nothing else to say.
    “Listen Owen, I ain't going to sugarcoat this. You had your moments. Hell, you're one of the most charming men I've ever met. But all you want is sex. I want more. I want a relationship. I want a man who has something going for him. I want babies. I wasn't ever gonna get any of that from you. So, please. Find somewhere else to drink. Don't come back here.”
    He wanted to believe she wasn't serious, but the tone she carried made it real enough. This was not how this night was supposed to go. The realization that he would be walking through the gates of hell alone was a painful punch in the gut. The more he pondered this, the more his heart and liver ached.
    Part of him wanted to shake it off and remember that there are other prettier and easier fish in the sea. The other part of him wanted to slap himself for even thinking such a thought. Grace is a hell of a catch for someone like him. Not that he was ugly, but an aging, lower-middle class man who drinks too much usually could only take what he could get. But as she walked away, he wanted to scream out so badly. This wasn't like him, and he knew it. Yet, in a matter of hours, his personality had changed drastically. He needed someone, anyone, to help him get through this.
    Say you are sorry. Say you love her. Say you will do anything to have her by your side.
    Instead, he watched Grace enter the restaurant without giving Owen one last look goodbye. In the end, he couldn't say anything to her. He was too scared, and that was the bottom line. Owen placed his hands in his pockets and slowly nodded his head, as if agreeing with himself that he was a failure. He took one last look at the sunset, but the sun had descended below the horizon that only fragments of orange remained. The rest of the sky was purple and black, like the colors of a metaphorically beaten heart. Not knowing what else to do, he shamefully climbed into his truck and started the ignition. Loud music immediately blared through the speakers, but he immediately turned the stereo off. Silence was all he wanted as he drove away from Louie's
    The last thing he remembered was a tear trickling down his cheek as the sky become fully black.
     
     

Chapter 2
     
    A black, starless void was his perception of the heavens above. Hints of a red smoke clouded his vision, as if an invisible sun's rays were evaporating a lake of blood. The ground below him could be perceived as loose chalk, and it was so thin and