Ding.
Sloan picked up the phone as soon as she heard the tone, slid her finger across the screen, to open the message.
What are you doing?
She stared at it for a second before looking at the television playing on mute in front of her. She couldn't handle the senseless banter of whatever was on but she needed some sort of visual stimulant while she read through her papers. She was contemplating a second book but lately, she couldn't focus on it.
A few minutes had passed and she heard a second ding.
Come on. Don't let me drink alone.
She sighed as she put the phone on the table and leaned back, pushing her hand through her hair in frustration. She thought about the conversation they had earlier that day. It hadn't ended on the best of ideas, no matter how much she wanted the woman to believe it, and if she was drinking she was sure it was not a good thing. What kind of friend would she be if she left her alone to that sort of thing?
She picked the phone up again, typed a few buttons, and got the information she needed to find her. It wasn't Hang Chew's, like usual, but several blocks away. It would take a cab ride to get there and she didn't want to let her wait too long so she quickly changed into something presentable—something that wasn't her pajamas, at least—and locked up her apartment before hailing the nearest cab.
Sloan pushed opened the door of the bar after arriving and glanced around the small, dark lit room and found the thin silhouette of Mackenzie in a booth on the other end. She made a sweep by the bar, ordered something with gin, and slid in next to Mac while she waited for her drink to be delivered.
"Why not the usual place?" she asked though she knew she didn't need an answer. She had her suspicions. The staff often migrated to Hang Chew's and she could imagine after today she didn't want to mingle with them or—less likely to happen—run into Will.
"Something new," was the only response. Sloan frowned, tucked her clutch next to her, and thanked the bar tender as he set her glass down. She sipped from it but did little to it for the time being.
"How long have you been here?" she asked, concern and sensitivity in her voice. Mackenzie wasn't a heavy drinker from what she gathered but the glass in her hand was near empty and she was sure she had been here long enough to have one prior.
"Since we left the office," Mackenzie responded, glancing up a moment to indicate she wanted another. Sloan wanted to suggest something else but for now she held off. Nothing traumatic had happened since her arrival but she felt tense.
"Oh."
"I just can't shake it this time. He's going to push me one too many times. Does he expect me to feel guilt for the rest of my life?" she questioned and set her empty glass down and picked up the new one brought to the table.
"You shouldn't."
"At what point does it go away? I always thought I would feel guilty until the day he forgave me but if that never comes… I'm sick of it."
Sloan smiled from the corner of her lips and swirled her drink in thought.
"I've done everything I possibly could. If nothing I do is good enough for him, then, well," she offered with a cringe, a tear down her cheek opposite of her companion that went unnoticed.
"There is nothing wrong with moving on. With being happy," Sloan insisted and put a hand on her arm with a gentle squeeze for reinforcement. She could see the process run through Mackenzie's eyes, her facial expression. She could see that she thought her life was with Will, married, kids, the whole shebang. It was there in her mind but so far from existence in the real world that coming to terms with it would be a culture shock.
Mackenzie had tried to move on but it had been a lie. Wade was a joke.
She was given a weak smile followed by a taste of her drink. Sloan let her hand go from her arm and sipped at her drink. She reconsidered and took a larger swallow, clearing nearly half of it before sitting it down and enjoying the burn it all the way down her throat.
"Look, you may not thing you do, but you do," Sloan insisted and pivoted in her seat. Her right leg moved up the leather of the bench and tucked beneath her so she could look at her friend. "You know I'm not one that should be giving this type of advice, but you're my friend and seeing you torture yourself is difficult and I want to see you happy," she affirmed, putting her hand on Mackenzie's leg to keep her attention.
Mackenzie turned her head to focus on Sloan's features, the concern in her eyes, the determination to get through to her.
She open her mouth to speak—to object or comply, she wasn't sure—but it was the same instant that Sloan had moved forward. Her hand gently touched the side of her chin and slid to caress her neck. At the same time, her lips met the foreign flesh of the other woman. She was so caught off guard that she didn't know how to respond. At first the comfort was there and her fingers lifted to find fabric of her clothes but it hit her suddenly and she pulled away from the economist.
Sloan let her fingers slip from Mackenzie's neck, eyes half lid, while Mac's were wide eyed and confused. Sloan's expression changed within a matter of seconds to find shock on her friend's face. Her own quickly matched and she leaned back, unable to come up with some sort of excuse and she was left, mouth open, horrified.
There was an elongated silence between them and Sloan didn't know what to do. Mackenzie was silent and the time felt as if it wasn't even moving. Sloan tipped the rest of her drink back at once and then leaned back in her seat.
The bar was mostly quiet with few patrons and no one seemed to notice either of them for that, she was thankful. She wasn't sure she could handle anymore embarrassment because she was sure she wouldn't be able to make it the rest of the night if the woman didn't speak to her.
"Mackenzie, I'm sorry."
Mackenzie said nothing and Sloan felt the air in her body disappear.
"Mac—"
"Sloan," Mac interrupted without turning her attention. Sloan jerked her attention to her and watched for a chance in expression.
"It just got the better of me, seeing you like that," she explained.
She didn't have a response for it and instead turned, put her hand on Sloan's arm with a squeezed and smiled awkwardly. The economist didn't know what that meant but before there was an explanation, Mackenzie frowned and left her sitting there alone in the bar.
