It was late for Thomas to be getting in from the Garrison, in which he owned. Coming in with a cigarette in his mouth at 10 at night. Though even from where you were standing in the kitchen making yourself something to drink before bed you didn't smell any alcohol on him.

Must not have been a drinking night...

Thomas sighs at he locks the door shut and tosses his hat and coat aside before he walks with purpose to the living room. Where the daily paper is set, and a fresh clean glass next to his decanter for his whiskey.

"Thank fuck something is going right." Thomas grumbles under his breath with his cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he fixes himself a glass of whiskey and sits down in his chair.

Loosening his tie angrily and trying not to rip the buttons on his cuffs to undo the sleeves. He'd seen Grace... and that man she suddenly decided was better than him. He was fuming even if it was all tucked away inside.

He didn't turn on the radio like usual.. he didn't say anything, go to the phone or even glance your direction. You were the last person he wanted to see right now. You were just another reminder of what felt like failures to him.