Page 35 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

Tink chokes so hard, I pat her back before she turns blue. “What the fuck, Scotch? You married her? Did she die?”

“Die? No. We had an epically non-epic break up and she ditched.”

“So where is she now? Your wife? Where’s Sammy?”

“Do you mean that literally? Or is this a philosophical thing?”

Tink glares at me. “What the hell is the matter with you, Samuel? I don’t wanna talk philosophy.”

I laugh again and continue to sip. I’m thirsty as fuck, and I might cry if I stop. “She’s my ghost, T. She’s haunting me, and it hurts so fucking much, I’m not sure I can take it much longer.”

“Woah.” Her hand moves to my slumped back, rubbing soothing circles where Sammy once perched. “Jesus. It still hurts this much?”

I nod in defeat. “I think it might actually be worse now. I can’t be sure exactly. But it feels worse, not better.”

Heavy boots scrape along the floor in the long hall, and we both turn and watch Angelo slowly walk toward us. His face is relieved at first, but my drunken smile has him frowning again. “Hey Ang. Have a drink with me, bud.”

He looks from me to Tink, then back again. He looks at his phone, then tucking it back in his pocket, he frowns at me. “You’re drunk?”

I shrug dramatically, accidentally knocking Tink’s hand off my back, and I pout because it felt nice. “Just a lil’ bit. It feels warm in my belly.”

“You let him get drunk?”

Tink’s hands come up. “It wasn’t me. He’d already started when I found him.”

“What are you doing here, Aleesi? Wanna drink with me? You’re my best friend, didya know that?”

“Fuck, you made it all the way to the I love you’s drunk. You’re gonna be spewing before lunchtime, dumbass.”

“I don’t spew anymore. I’m a man now.”

His brow lifts high. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I went by the apartment to see if you two had killed each other yet. Sammy said you bolted, so I hedged my bets and came here.”

“Sammy’s at the apartment?” Tink asks loudly. Her gaze jumps from mine to Ang’s like a bobble head toy. “She’s here? Right now?” She jumps down from her stool so fast it tips over with a heavy crash. She bolts away from me and toward the exit, but Angelo scoops her up so she’s running on air.

“Nope. Definitely not.”

“I need to meet her! Quick, give me the 4-1-1. Kicking her ass or welcoming her into the fold? Cookies or knives!? I don’t need details. I’ll take your word for it.”

“Neither, short stuff, so cool it.” Angelo sets her on her feet, but his hand remains wrapped around her bicep. “You need to leave this one alone. This situation is like a grenade with no pin, and I don’t need you going in there stomping around.”

“But Ang--”

He shakes his head with finality. “Nope. Not today.”

“You suck.” She turns to me. “Why’s she back?”

“None of your business,” he answers her. “But I need you to keep the lid on it for now.”

“I don’t have lids. I don’t believe in them.”

“Time to start practicing. Zip it up.”

Angelo shakes his head as I stumble off my stool. My foot catches between the legs and I catch myself on another table.

---