He toyed with the bottle in his hands, tipping it from one hand to the other without bothering to quite look back up at Ruby. He was too emotionally torn to really keep himself at a level where he would be able to make eye contact and not burst into tears. Again, not that he minded crying in front of Ruby. It was just something that he didn't want to do again. He'd already cried himself out more than once in his hotel room. Over stupid things, that always led back to Heather. A commercial on TV. Something that he had brought along with him. Her picture on his phone. Small stuff. Sam looked at the bottle, and his stomach instantly twisted. She liked to drink...
"It has to be," he said, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose. He was NOT going to cry again. No, no, no. "This is how it's gotta be. I can't support her, I'm not...right. And she deserves better. And...and..."
Fuck. Why did she like to drink? He cast the bottle aside, eyes welling. "I'm not good for her, she's got too many...she has her problems and I can't make them right when I can't make ME right. I - my God, she loved to drink."