She pulled into the driveway not four minutes later, her thoughts swirling in a cacophonous mixture of rage, confusion, and concern. Even in that short time, she had to crack the windows enough to coax out the insistent smell of his all-day intoxication. She was at the door long before him, slamming it open while he was still navigating the step, that endless step, out of the van to the ground somewhere far below. When he finally made it inside, her feelings of abandonment and emotional rape took over. A family picture found its way off the wall and lay demolished on the floor. It was a convincing sound that scared their eldest son, waking him up.

A family was coming apart at the seams and he knew it. He let her rant. What else was she to do in such a moment? His self-esteem was lodged somewhere in his lower intestine…