She listened, sipping at her whiskey, smiling softly at the mention of dogs and fleetingly wishing she could meet them. She’d always been more of a cat person, but she appreciated dogs too. Adorable, eager to please, energetic dogs. Cats were more like her - stoic, hedonistic loners who sought out companionship only to satisfy their own needs. She’d set aside those traits for James, and only for James. But he was gone now.
“Plans,” she murmured, testing the word out like it was something foreign. “I had plans, once.” She’d had a man that she loved and a ring on her finger. The possibility of children in her future. And it had all been ripped away from her in a split second of screeching tires and shattered glass. She drained the rest of her whiskey, setting the glass down on the bar and glancing up for the bartender. He pressed his lips together, eyeing her critically and then pouring her another. “Last one, honey,” he said, pushing it over to her. She frowned at him but accepted the glass, the sliver of rational thought still intact recognizing that this was a good thing. She sighed and stared down into her last glass of the night.
“Have you ever lost anyone?” she asked, eyes fixed on the amber liquid shifting and winking up at her in her glass. “Someone you loved. Someone you knew you could never live without?”