Eight days ago by now, I promised the fascinating 
Apologizing for the unforgivable wait, I try to do it using the #freewrite prompt of Day 159: "think".
"Think about what you're about to do," Jack said, turning the glass of whiskey on the rocks with two fingers, in a gesture of nervousness.
"Are you sure you want to lose her after all the effort made to conquer her? It will not be easy to find another one with her class and her beauty."
The bar was half empty, with dim lights made even more crepuscular by the dark wood of the tables and the counter, behind which a stout bartender pretended to do his own business while not losing a single word of every conversation.
Blake glanced at him sideways, before emptying his glass with a decisive gesture.
"No, Jack," he replied in a disenchanted tone. "I thought about it enough, it's over. Serenity was a difficult trophy to conquer, and for this reason precious and envied by everyone, but over time she proved to be very different from what I believed her to be.”
He gave a short bitter laugh.
"It's not funny? I've always loved the challenges, I've always told you that it's never enough for me, I always look to the next goal to reach, and now I have to succumb to a woman who is never satisfied with anything, who asks me more and more... I could spend my entire salary in gifts, dinners, trips, and it would not be enough! What was a challenge has become a torture for me, a prison from which I have to escape. Hell! Someone else will take her, someone who likes to have his life ruined! Let's quit farting around!”
He jumped up, leaving a few bills on the table and left the room. The bartender raised an imperceptible eyebrow.
She was enjoying the dance, the music. She was loose in her movements, shaking her head and her magnificent shoulders as if in a kind of trance. The bad memories were already leaving her, like the very light sweat that beaded her skin and lips.
She was almost thirsty. With an elastic and rhythmic pace, she left the dance floor and headed for the bar. She felt the looks on herself, but he let them slip with indifference. She would have had no trouble meeting someone who offered her a drink.
She leaned against the counter, arching with studied nonchalance, and looked around like a feline hunting. She saw a familiar face, who smiled at her with two drinks in hand. Was not that friend of Blake, the tall and well-placed, gentle-looking but hiding something more? What was he called? Nice shirt! And a beautiful smile! Direct look, firm steps... Ah, here, she remembered now.
She threw back the head and shook her hair.
"Hi, Jack!"
He smiled more.
This post is part of the 5 Minute Freewrite Contest.
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