Hours later, I was drunk, my willpower and good sense dripping out of me with every passing second.
I stared at the phone in my hand. Tossed it back on the couch next to me. Reached for the wine bottle and poured the last of it into my glass.
Moments ago, I’d typed Wilhelm Knight into the search engine, but had shut the screen off before I could glimpse the results.
“Oh, man,” I groaned inside my hands. If I looked him up, I’d be going against all of my principles. The best thing for me to do right now, was to go to bed and sleep this turmoil off. I’d be myself again in the morning.
I glanced over at my phone. Then again, there was no true hurt in sneaking a peek. I wouldn’t go on a scavenging hunt. I’d check his f*******: page, if he had one, which to think of it, he probably didn’t.
