Skylar’s expression softened as she sat down beside Natalie, who was clearly intoxicated. She knew Natalie well enough to see that this wasn’t just about the alcohol—it was a way for her to escape, to forget whatever had been weighing on her mind. But Skylar could see the pain hiding behind her friend’s cheerful facade.
“Natalie,” Skylar said softly, “you don’t have to do this. Whatever’s bothering you, I’m here. You don’t need to drown it in alcohol.”
Natalie gave a lazy shrug, her eyes glazed but still filled with a hint of the usual playfulness. “You wouldn’t understand, Skye,” she muttered, swirling the drink in her glass. “Everything’s just… so messed up. My husband, my life. Nothing’s the way it should be.” She sighed dramatically, her hand resting on the table. “But, hey, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m just enjoying myself tonight.”
Skylar hesitated for a moment, concerned but not wanting to push too hard. “What happened? You can talk to me.”
Natalie let out a bitter laugh. “Talk to you? It’s complicated, Skye. So complicated that I don’t even know where to start.” She leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant. “Everything just feels like a big lie. I keep telling myself I’m happy, that I’m content, but deep down I know something’s wrong. There’s this void I can’t fill, no matter what I do.”
Skylar watched her friend with a mixture of sympathy and confusion. Natalie had always been the bubbly, confident one, never one to show weakness. But tonight, it was clear she was struggling with something deeper.
“Maybe it’s time to face it head-on,” Skylar suggested, her voice calm but firm. “You can’t keep running from it. You deserve more than this… than just drowning your worries in alcohol.”
Natalie looked at her, her eyes flickering with a mix of vulnerability and frustration. “I don’t even know what I want anymore, Skye. I’ve been so focused on keeping up appearances, trying to be the perfect wife, the perfect friend, the perfect everything. But deep down… it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel real.”
Skylar took a deep breath. She knew exactly what Natalie meant. It was something Skylar herself had been dealing with—keeping up appearances, pretending everything was fine, when inside, things were falling apart.
But in that moment, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for her own situation. How could she tell Natalie to confront her problems when she had been running from her own for so long? She had been distancing herself from Christopher, from her family, from everything that made her feel safe.
“I think you need to talk to him,” Skylar said gently, trying to offer some advice that might help her friend. “Talk to your husband. Tell him how you feel. You can’t keep it all inside. You deserve to be heard, Natalie.”
Natalie frowned, swirling her drink again. “It’s not that simple, Skye. He’s always busy with work, always preoccupied with his own things. I don’t even know if he’d care.”
Skylar reached out and gently placed a hand on Natalie’s. “He cares. You just have to give him the chance to show it. Don’t give up on him yet.”
There was a long silence between them as Natalie stared at her drink. Skylar could see the internal struggle in her friend’s eyes. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Natalie sighed deeply, setting her glass down on the table.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said quietly. “Maybe I do need to talk to him. I just… I don’t know where to start.”
Skylar smiled, relieved that Natalie was beginning to open up. “Start with the truth. Tell him exactly how you feel, without holding back. You might be surprised by how he responds.”
Natalie nodded slowly, looking like she might actually take the advice to heart. “Thanks, Skye. I needed someone to tell me that.”
Skylar gave her a reassuring smile. “Anytime, Nat. You’re not alone in this.”
As they sat together, the weight of their individual troubles seemed a little lighter, if only for a moment. The rain continued to pour outside, but inside the bar, a sense of warmth and camaraderie began to settle between the two friends, offering a brief respite from the storm they were each weathering in their own way.
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