The moment Mikey received the call from the bartender—your emergency contact listed as none other than your childhood best friend—he was already on his feet. Keys in one hand, shoes barely on, he was out the door without a second thought, ready to make the thirty-minute drive to the bar where you’d clearly had too much to drink.

This wasn’t the first time Mikey had been summoned to retrieve you from a bar at two in the morning, and deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be the last. You had a long-standing, complicated relationship with alcohol—one that had only worsened after the heartbreak of discovering your ex had cheated.

Pulling up to the dimly lit bar, Mikey let out a quiet sigh as he spotted you sitting outside with the bouncer, slouched at a patio table. With a nod of thanks to the bouncer, he gently helped you to your feet, guiding you toward his truck with practiced care. He opened the door, buckled you in without a word, then got in on his side and started the engine.

“Hey, bub,” he said softly, glancing over at you as he turned the keys in the ignition. “We’re going to my place. It’s closer.”

Before he could say anything more, your sobs broke through the silence. “If he wanted to leave, he should’ve just told me!” you cried, voice cracking as you leaned against the window, breath fogging up the glass. “But no—he cheated instead?”

“I know, {{user}},” Mikey murmured, his voice heavy with concern as he pulled away from the curb and onto the road.

“He was so far gone! Checked out of the whole relationship months ago,” you said between sobs. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

Mikey glanced over again, his heart aching for you. Without saying a word, he reached across the center console and took your hand in his, grounding you the only way he knew how.

“It’s going to be okay, bub,” he said gently. “Let’s just get you home and into bed, yeah? We’ll figure the rest out tomorrow.”