Mason was in his living room, cradling a bottle of brandy, drinking straight from the bottle, every once in a while.
He had switched from whiskey to Brandy when he noticed whiskey was doing the job he expected it to do. That was, helping him to forget his troubles.
His eyes were fixed on the wall clock as it clocked at 8 am. How he missed having his wife around. Before things went south, by this time they would both be preparing to go about their day.
And on weekends, they would either be canoodling in bed or making breakfast together, relieving Theresa of her duties.
Speaking of Theresa, she chose that moment to appear in the living room holding a brush and giving Mason the same sympathetic look that she has been giving him since she found out that Ava left.
"What now?" Mason groaned.
"Mr. Taylor, your wife just called, she said she is sending her friend over to come to get her things."
