It's a good story.

"...so that's the only time you removed someone's existence?"

Drake stared into his whiskey glass pensively. "I think so. I'm not even sure any of it happened."

She raised an eyebrow. This man at the bar had just sat next to her and started telling this wild story. For some reason, she found herself unable to walk away or ignore him until he finished it.

"How can you not be sure it happened? I mean, did you make it up or not?"

He sighed. "I hate the metaphysical shit. So I took her existence in the real world, but that doesn't mean she can't exist in fiction."

She wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't make sense."

"Does Sherlock Holmes exist? Or Santa Claus?" he asked mildly.

"Of course not! Are you saying she's like Santa Claus?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "But you know who they are. You can describe them, maybe even quote them. A person doesn't have to exist to be real. I've followed up a few details from this story and they check out. It just popped into my head one morning as a fully-formed story." He took another gulp of whiskey. "I'm not very creative, you know, but I can picture everyone in the story perfectly. In fact, I've changed some names and details when I tell it to keep people's privacy."

She pondered this as he took out his wallet and left a twenty on the bar. "But how can you know for sure? What if it was a dream or a hallucination or something?"

He shrugged and turned to leave. "I can't ever know, I suppose. I've just got a hunch." As he put on his coat, he glanced down at her hands.

"That's a lovely ring, by the way."