Adam Jones slumped back into his seat, yanking at his shirt collar, leaning against the couch as he downed his drink, gulp by gulp.
He chugged the 90-proof Grenada Rum like it was water, as if he had a death wish.
Harry Hall couldn't stand watching any longer and reached out to snatch the bottle from Adam's hands, "Your stomach is weak, stop drinking."
Adam's eyes, bloodshot from the alcohol, coldly glanced at Harry and, without a word or fight, reached for another bottle on the table, only to have it taken and smashed to the ground by Harry.
"Enough! Is it just a divorce? Do you have to drink yourself to death over it? If you can't let go, then go find her, chase her again, and if it's your pride that you can't swallow, then you deserve this."
Adam's eyes, blurred with alcohol, looked at Harry and he suddenly laughed out loud.
He leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, breathing slowly, yet so still it was as if he had fallen asleep.
