Chapter 112

• He’d spent the following days drunk. Two days later, he’d crawled out of the bottle, but he hadn’t returned to the office, calling in ill. Not that it was a lie. He was sick.
• Heart sick. Soul sick. If that wasn’t a thing, it should be.
• Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his head, dragging it down his face and chin. Scruff from the last couple of days scraped his palm, and it reminded him that he needed to shave before he returned to the office tomorrow. Because he had to return. He couldn’t hide out in his home nursing his open wounds forever. No matter how much he longed to. The thought of facing anyone right now had him longing to open another bottle of Scotch.