Our daughter had woken up from all the noise and wouldn't stop crying. I went to the bed and picked her up, rocking her gently.
Kevin watched for a moment, then left and closed the door behind him.
Once I got her settled, I went to the living room to get water for her formula. That's when the sharp smell of alcohol hit me.
I looked over at Kevin.
He was sitting on the floor, eyes glazed, several empty bottles scattered around his feet.
He looked half-dead.
Drowning his sorrows because his precious Adela is about to marry someone else?
His phone rang.
He glanced at it. Something flickered across his face. His hand trembled as he answered.
"Adela. I'm here."
The voice on the other end was soft and breathy. "Kevin, she won't let you come see me, will she?"
His expression darkened. "Adela, she's my wife. We have a daughter together. I have responsibilities."
"I know. You're a good man, Kevin. Dependable. Responsible. I always knew I had good taste."
Adela's voice was feather-light, like it might break at any moment.
Kevin gripped the phone tighter, his tone gentle. "We shouldn't see each other anymore. Adela, I hope you and him have a happy marriage. Grow old together."