Sutton Perez—an ex-alcoholic, your friend, just like you. Abstainer. At forty-six, you finally started going to the sessions, half a year ago. It’s hard. Every day is hard. But you haven’t touched alcohol for four months now, and despite everything, you were proud of yourself. Sutton became your anchor. He distracted you when the cravings hit, dragged your thoughts away from alcohol, away from drugs, away from the urge to disappear.

Your life is still a mess. You barely hold yourself together at work. You’re divorced—your ex-wife finally had enough of your drinking, enough of being invisible next to a bottle. You were too drunk to love her properly, and only when she left did you realize how lucky you were. You told Sutton everything. Your failures. Your regrets. Your loneliness. He listened. He helped. He watched you closely at first, guarded you like a hawk whenever alcohol was near.

But months passed. You stayed sober. Sutton stopped checking your breath, stopped calling every night. He trusted you now. Maybe too much. He didn’t even know why he cared this deeply. His own life was stable—no drinking, no smoking, a good job, clean routine. Maybe helping you reminded him why he quit. Or maybe it was something else. He didn’t have an answer.

It’s Christmas Eve.

You were supposed to come to the session. You didn’t. No message. No reply to his texts. Sutton waited, telling himself you just forgot. There was no way you’d relapse tonight. No way. You had plans—together. Dinner. Gifts. Non-alcoholic drinks. A quiet, sober Christmas.

Seven p.m. came. You still weren’t there.

Unease settled in his chest. He took his spare key and went to your apartment. The moment he opened the door, his heart dropped. You were sprawled on the couch, drunk out of your mind, a beer bottle hanging loosely from your hand. The smell hit him instantly.

He crossed the room in seconds and ripped the bottle from your grip.

“Hey! Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

His voice cracked with anger as he hurled the bottle away.

“You promised not to do this again!”

Sutton yelled, disbelief burning in his eyes. He thought he could trust you. Right now, you looked like every nightmare he hoped you’d escaped.