The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows on the walls of the small tavern. Liam, across from her, was already several pints in, and his cheeks were flushed. He was ready to tell his story.
"That night, remember? After the play? That bar was packed!" Liam began. "The way the music pulsed, the way we danced all night…" He chuckled, seemingly lost in the memory.
She nodded slowly, the ale warming her insides. She allowed him to speak, letting the words roll over her. "Yes, I remember," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"The way you laughed… You were the life of the party," he continued.
She took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink. The bar was loud, and she concentrated on the clinking glasses and boisterous laughter to calm herself. She remembered the play differently. She recalled the stifling heat, the suffocating atmosphere. She recalled being tired, wanting to go home.
"I can't believe how much fun we had,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
She finally looked up, meeting his gaze. "I’m pleased you found it so enjoyable,” she replied. Her voice was steady.
He beamed at her. "I did," he confirmed, and took a long swig of his beer. She watched him, her expression calm, letting his happy vision envelop the small space.