"Don't turn me into your next fucking project, Angelina." George refused to look at Angelina, though he could see her boots and skin-tight jeans at the edge of his vision. "You were Fred's girlfriend, not mine." Choking back a sob, George turned to the window of his flat and lifted the Firewhiskey to his mouth once more.
"You're not just a project to me, George." George heard footsteps come toward him. "Sure, we have bad history, but that doesn't stop us from making a good future together. Fred would have wanted –"
"Don't!" George spun around, meeting Angelina's eyes for the first time that night. "You have no idea what Fred would have wanted! He would never approve of you meddling in my life. He…" George trailed off as the sobs overtook him once more.
Angelina's voice was soft at his ear. "George. You can't let your past ruin your future. I dated Fred, loved Fred. And then we both lost him and…fell apart. I have moved forward with my life, leading me to you. I'm not trying to force you into anything and I certainly don't consider you a project." A soft hand rubbed along George's shoulder. "Just think about it. A night out with the old crowd might do you good."
As the door shut behind her, George wondered if he would ever stop feeling guilty for living.