I unscrew the plastic cap from the glass bottle
and pour another drink.
If I do this quietly enough she won't hear
what I'm doing from the other room.
I take my first sip and see my wife
appear in the doorway.
I smile and she tosses me a stare of objection.
She won't argue the whiskey back in the bottle.
She asks me for a sip and I smile harder handing her the glass
and I watch her face scrunch when she swallows.

Later we'll go to bed and I'll wonder if she is happy.
It's what she deserves.
I want to make her happy so bad that it burns
more than a thousand whiskeys.

My heart screams into a pillow.