Another day, another victory for the good guys. That's what he kept telling himself at least. He couldn't keep it up for long, and that much he knew. He hadn't had anything to drink for a day, and it was bugging him. But he had to get sober. He knew it would last long. By the end of the night, he'd be at the the counter, pouring himself a glass, drowning himself in the vodka, the scotch, wine, anything that would help. He wanted it to just hurry up, to just go away. But it wouldn't.
Hr disappointed face kept coming back to haunt him as her name floated out of his lips and into the empty air. Sophie.