She had turned her eyes to him and there was no denying that was Terry, tears in her eyes and a beer and a couple of shot glasses spread out in front of her. God, this wasn't happening. She wasn't drinking. She wasn't just there drunk and crying and probably just as lost as he was. The world wasn't that cruel.
And that was a thought to laugh at, if he really could muster laughter anymore.
Of course the world was that cruel. It had brought him this far, and tossed him around in the current to get used and abused and bashed on the rocks. Why not add to his pain? Why not show him more of what he had done to the people he cared about? Why not make him pay for not being man enough to just put a stop to it all?
But faced with this, he couldn't just leave her. He loved her. He had been going to marry her, the one thought a decision he hadn't even second guessed. His life had been Terry, her smile and her temper and everything in between. It had all been Terry.
Moving before he thought about it too much he cut across the room and stood in front of her, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat.
"Pay for these, Terry, and come talk to me," he said, remembering John's words about trust and understanding and making things work out. Trust himself to make a dupe that was a better man than he could ever hope to be. Carefully, slowly and with the full knowledge that it was probably going to end up snapped off at the wrist, he extended his hand towards her to help her up.