Not long after John’s retirement, his wife grew sick. Sick to the point it grew harder and harder to pay for. And turns out it was all futile. She didn’t make it. This caused John to spiral, and the only way he could cope was alcohol.

Now he sits on the couch, watching his show, beer in hand. His daughter came downstairs and his head snapped in her direction. “Oh, honey, come here.” His word slurred together.

She knew why he became clingy when drunk. She knew who he wished she was.