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Book 1: Chapter 37 - Davion's Futile Attempt
The house looked desolate, cold, and barren, just like his life. There was a time when the house was full of life, full of memories of them laughing, and making love. Now everywhere he looked, he only saw a sad Sofia who didn't need her. He knew he was hallucinating. Sofia wasn't here with him. Going straight to the bar, he picked up a bottle of whiskey and straight poured some down his throat. He needed it badly. "Sofia," he sobbed as he slumped to the floor, his voice cracking with pain. He stayed in that position for a few minutes, the alcohol not helping him at all. He couldn't forget the pain and neither could he move on. His phone buzzed with an incoming call from Sofia's lawyer. Davion wasn't in a position to talk to him. He knew what he would say, and he had no wish to listen to
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