Gratitude
The faint smell of beer on his breath; she was sure she smelt the same.
How many bottles sat on their table, she wasn't sure. And Rachel made no attempt to find out. She was having fun. Her, of all people.
Eddie's arm stretched across the back of the seat, a circular booth they had chosen for privacy. God knows they needed it after the day they'd had. But with each drink, the remnants of the day were forgotten and they were left with each other.
Rachel laughed, feeling the way her chest moved uncontrollably with each sound. Her hand reached out, entwining itself with his.
It was dreary weather, the pub was shabby, and she was happy.
Not forever but for the time being. Until they were ushered out by the landlord, at least. Then they would return home together and like every night, she would send her blessings to whatever universal force allowed this to happen.