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Ash
I take another sip of my beer and close one eye, trying to focus on the television playing replays of archived Eagles games.
“Fuck hockey,” I mutter and down the last of my beer straight from the bottle.
“Another. In fact, make it whiskey,” I call over to the bartender, who is cleaning glasses and eyeing me suspiciously. I slap a one-hundred-dollar bill on top of the bar. That’ll change his mind.
“Make that five.”
Bleary eyed, I follow the familiar voice and look to the left of me.
Brayden.
“Hey, man.” A firm hand squeezes my right shoulder, and I twist my neck to see who it is.
Troy.
I want to be alone. “Go away.”
“Well, aren’t you a fucking ray of sunshine this evening?” Troy flops down on the bar stool next to me.
“And if you didn’t want anyone to know your whereabouts, you shouldn’t have sat pickling your liver inside the bar Buster and I own and where everyone knows you.” Leon appears behind the bar alongside Buster.
Subconsciously, I think I wanted them to find me. However, Home & Away is the best sports bar in Edmonton and I wouldn’t drink anywhere else.
Leon and Buster’s bar manager fills five whiskey tumblers with the amber colored liquor and distributes them in front of us. “Thanks, Ricky.” Troy grabs a glass.
“Traitor,” I slur in Ricky’s direction, knowing he was the one who most likely alerted Leon to my presence.
Brayden swivels round to face me and rests his elbow on the bar. “Management said they’ve been calling you all night.”
“I switched my phone off. Fuck them.” I down my whiskey in one and choke on the smoky, bitter taste.
Troy slaps my back while I cough and splutter uncontrollably. “Easy, Ash. You’ve never been able to handle your drink.”
“Fuck off.” I push his arm off me. “Leave me alone.”
Alone.
How Lily feels.
Brayden jumps in, sounding worried and equally annoyed. “Do you mind explaining what’s going on with you? First, I get a frantic call from Dustin screaming down the phone, telling me you’ve quit via a text message. If you were going to do it seriously, you could have at least emailed the Eagles’ general manager with a formal letter of resignation. And second, Ricky calls me to tell me you’re drinking yourself into a hole on a Thursday night. In my bar. So, what the fuck is going on, Ash?”
I can’t bring myself to tell them.
I’m too ashamed to admit I failed my wife.
My absolute rock and the only woman who really knows me.
We’ve shared everything, including our tears tonight.
Resting my elbows on the bar, I drop my head into my hands and stare down at the floor.
I feel empty.
I lost her.
“Ash?” one of my friends pushes me for an answer.
