There had been a time before Grant tasted wine. Sure, he had opportunities in college or during holiday parties, but for whatever reason he abstained.
It was Samantha who handed him his first glass. The Starry Night Festival had nearly emptied the office.
Samantha had been his secretary then, back before Kate was born. She had been working in the office for a month. Grant was too nervous to say more than a word to her. They communicated exclusively through post-it notes and head nods back then.
Grant had been filing through some paperwork when he heard a clink above his desk. He shuffled through the papers faster. Samantha cleared her throat. Grant gathered the nerve to meet her eyes.
And they were stunning eyes, dark and intense. He had never really looked at her before.
She pushed the glass towards without a word.
At first it was sweet. Grant brought the cup close and let liquid fill his mouth. But just as he had the sour aftertaste hit. He sputtered and coughed. Samantha stifled a laugh. Grant tried to play it off like he wasn't an amateur but that only made Samantha laugh harder.
And just like that they fell in love. Every Tuesday Grant took Samantha out to a fancy restaurant. At each one they would sample the wine. Glass by glass Grant became a professional. He no longer sputtered he sipped. He no longer coughed he coaxed.
They started sending each other wine bottles with letters wrapped around them. When Grant finally proposed Samantha found her ring at the bottom of a wine glass. And you can bet there was wine during the honeymoon.
Then Samantha became pregnant. She would lie in her bed for days at a time. Her mood turned sour. She envied every glass that Grant poured. So Grant stopped. Not one bottle entered the house until Kate was born.
And every day after one bottle was never enough. Kate was a handful. From five until eleven Samantha raised her alone.
Each night the two parents would sit down for one last glass. But each sip drove them apart.
Some nights they were shouting. Some nights they were silent.
One night the door slammed and she never came back.
Now wine was all Grant had left of her and he certainly drank his fill.