GETTING ACQUAINTED
Standing in the middle of Ethan’s apartment, I’m reeling over what has transpired. I make my way to the couch and flop down, bringing my knees under me. I place my face into my palms and sob.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I look up.
Ethan has a short, broad rim glass containing a deep gold liquid. “Drink this.” He extends the glass to me. “It will ease your nerves.”
“What is it?” I choke between tears.
“Bourbon,” he answers tenderly.
I shake my head. “Thank you, but I shouldn’t.”
“Are you an alcoholic?”
“No. I abuse it, though.” I wipe my tears with my fingers.
“One glass is not abusing alcohol. You need something to take off the edge. I’ll have a glass too,” Ethan smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
I exhale. “Alright.”
I take the glass and sniff the dr
