She wanted to stop, but couldn't. He wasn't worth the tears, but she was too broken hearted to prevent them. Even in her distraught state she saw the irony of her crying over him on the very sofa he'd first screwed her on, she could no long think of it as love making.The next morning when she arrived at the office she felt conspicuous, it was as if everybody knew. She wondered how many jokes she'd been the butt of. After spending half the night crying, she'd decided to just come in and face the music, to get it over with. To her surprise, nothing seemed different, either nobody knew or they didn't care. It was just another day at the office. But she still had to face Rakauskas.He was already at work when she got to her desk. They exchanged their usual neutral good morning greetings as she sat down. He didn't pay any more attention to her than usual. She started her own work, waiting for the shoe to fall. After an hour she decided to take the bull by the horns. She looked over at. I was not used to running on sand as I ran on the street or pavement back home and soon got tired. I sat by the beach contemplating my decision and finally decided to grab a bite and walked towards the beachside bar-restaurant and looked for the bartender.Being morning, the place was deserted. The bartender, with whom Rishikesh had struck up a conversation the previous night, was a young man, still in college and was working here part-time to finance his education. He smiled at me through tired eyes, and I ordered myself a cup of tea, which he did not serve. Settling on a glass of lemonade, I looked around the bar once again.It seemed that the property ran this place in the morning primarily to serve people pick-me-up cocktails. After a night of heavy drinking and partying, it was the least people could expect. It felt odd that the cure to excessive drinking was another drink.As I scanned the bar I saw a girl sitting alone in the corner fiddling with her drink, some kind of orange.
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