I’ve been called many names—mid-kid, wild child, Ella Bella, preacher’s daughter, and probably a lot of others behind my back. Whiskey Girl, though, is top shelf. It’s not necessarily the most accurate. But it’s my favorite because of who crowned me with it.
Entering the bar, all I wanted was a temporary escape. I needed a moment of not comparing my life to my perfect sister’s. And that definitely meant a shot of something strong … something that would leave an impression. Little did I know, it wouldn’t be the alcohol but the stranger sitting beside me.
When fate traumatically threw us together a second time, the initial bond I had with that man strengthened. Maks understood sister issues. He understood being the undervalued family member. He understood loss. He understood me.
What Maks didn’t understand was my ability to protect myself from being hurt. I did it when playing sports, and I had learned to do the same with relationships. That’s why when it came to our goodbye, I needed to be the strongest proof and fly away.
But bottles break. Wings get clipped. And my directionless life suddenly seemed to have a plan of its own.