“Sorry,” Tristan said. “Thanks for—”
“Take your shoes and get in bed.” Clive was turning a few lights on as he walked away and down the hall. “I’ll get you some water and a Tylenol.”
Alone, Tristan looked around at his empty apartment and got himself together. It was time to sober up. He’d missed Halloween. He’d missed this special night with his family. And Rain had called him all evening. What a shit he was for not picking up. He’d intended on going out with Clive and stopping at the second drink, but he’d fallen apart at the bar and slipped down into that bottomless pool of self-pity again. Why?
Because he’d been too ashamed to come home. His stupid pride again.
Tristan took his phone out. “Never mind the water,” he called out to Clive, walking into the kitchen.
“Who you calling?” Clive asked, turning away from the sink. “Don’t call anybody when you’re drunk. That never ends well.”