The glass drained in one swift gulp, he slammed it down on the bar, ice cubes clinking against the sides as he motioned to the bartender for another refill of the amber-colored tonic that he hoped would make it all go away. But no matter how many times the barkeep poured, or how many drinks he emptied, the heartache remained, burning straight to his core.
"How could she?" he barked at the bartender. "How could she do it, Mike? You've known her just as long as I have.......how did this happen?"
Mike shook his head, never looking up from the glasses he was washing. "Doesn't sound like the Dani I knew, man. You sure about this?"
"I saw it with my own damn eyes, man!" He slammed his glass down on the bar again, ice sliding across the glossy surface as the glass tipped over, rolled off and hit the floor with the tinkle of shattering glass. "I saw the shadows through the living room curtains. She's doing it in my own freaking house!"
"Well, then how long has it been going on, Shawn?"
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he snarled. "And where's my refill?"
"Once you've broken your third glass of the night, I think you're far too drunk to be served anymore. And you've suddenly been in here almost every night for about a month - which is ten times as much as I normally see you - draining every drop of J.D. I can find.”
Mike looked up into Shawn's ashen face.
"So exactly how many times have you seen it with your own eyes?"
Shawn dropped a pair of twenties on the bar and walked away wordlessly, slamming the door as he exited. Mike went back to his glass washing, wondering if perhaps he should be a better friend.
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