I shouldn’t have come. I’m an idiot.
Another swig.
It’ll be fine.
I started chuckling.
Another swig.
We arrived at her parents’ house. Still as depressing as it was last time I was there. The yard, bushes and flower beds were immaculate. Fuck people who do that. Get a life. Play some Candy Crush or whatever.
Another swig.
I followed her into the house. I kind of felt like a teenager again. Sneaking into the house. Trying not to seem as drunk as I was and probably failing miserably.
“So where’s yo momma?” I asked.
“She’s probably in the kitchen,” my wife said. “But we’re not here for her.”
“Who are we here for?” I asked, now confused by why we were at her parents’ house.
She just looked at me like I should know.
“Who are we here for?” I asked again.
I think the alcohol is affecting me a little more than it used to. I started feeling warm.
She didn’t say anything. She just stared at me like I was an idiot.
“Let’s go see your mom,” I said.
“We aren’t here for her,” the bitch responded.
Oh God, why did I come.
“Follow me,” she said with a calmness I didn’t know she possessed.