The JONES’ HOME
Owen watched his friend open another can of beer, gulping it down his throat like he had just left the desert. His eyes trailed the four empty cans of beer on the table. He chuckled to himself as he returned to his seat. “I believe you have no plans of driving back home tonight, seeing how much you keep consuming. Is there a chance my wife will return home today?”
Bryson cleared his throat, sniffing. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind.”
He shook his head, laughing. “She already told me. I do not understand why you lied about having urgent business. When it is obvious that you are just avoiding your home.”
He groaned, leaned into the chair, throwing out his legs and staring into the night. With his shirt unbuttoned, Bryson could feel the chilled night air sinking into his p
