Was this his third drink of the night? Or his fourth? And when did he start drinking it without Coke?
The Ether delivered my answer with an unamused directness that chilled me to my core...
Two years, seven months and twenty-nine days...
Had it really been that long since we started this morbid peep show of ours? Since I’d been forced to watch him destroy himself glass by wretched glass?
The thought crossed my mind that I had been the one who put him here, but I pushed it aside. He was still breathing. He was the reason why I wasn’t.
Yet, here I was. Watching him. Again.
That was something I could never push aside, nor break free of.
I know because I’ve tried.
He knocked back the rum without as much as a grimace to chase it down. The cowboy boot shaped gla