Neil Keller 2

The Price of Her – Part Two Three months. Eighty-seven days since Neil cut the ropes and walked you to the edge of the road without looking back. You should have hated him. You should have been grateful you were alive. Instead, you thought about him every damn day—the way he listened when you spoke, the way his voice dipped low when he was trying not to care. The way it felt, for a few twisted weeks, like he was the only person in the world who saw you. You found him on a Tuesday. It took hiring a PI, burning through too much money, and lying to your family about “a work trip.” The bar was small, dimly lit, the kind of place where no one asked questions. He was there, behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, pouring a drink for a man twice your size.