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Life was cruel.
What other explanation was there for the shitty hand you've been dealt? If it wasn't bad enough that you were about to lose your mother, you just had to run into him.
You hated that you were even giving him a second thought- the image of him playfully peppering kisses around Annie's neck was permanently burned into your head, playing over and over as you drove back to your parent's house.
Your father insisted on staying behind, not wanting to leave his wife's side for a single moment. After spending most of the day at the hospital, you decided to head out to let him and yourself get some much needed rest.
And, maybe you would've been able to, if your thoughts weren't racing a mile a minute.
The house was just as empty as when you arrived; the sheer silence was ironically deafening. You plopped yourself on the couch, leaning your head back over the cushions and let out the deepest breath that you were holding for god knows how long. This was all too much, you needed something to take the edge off a bit.
You searched the cabinets for a bottle of something, anything to help calm your nerves.
Score; a half empty bottle of whiskey was perched prettily at the top of the pantry. It wasn't your favorite, but it would have to do for now. You poured yourself a glass and drank until the alcohol warmed your insides to a toasty comfort, just enough to help you drift off to sleep.
