I wipe my chin. “You okay?”
He looks up and nods, the gesture barely perceptible. Watching him struggle, fighting through each bite, is like pouring molten lead down my throat. I put my burger down and sip my wine to put the fire out in my belly.
“Take your time, no need to rush,” I say.
Another nod. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Eat!”
I finish my burger and wait for him to finish. At last, he sets the half-eaten burger on the plate and stares at it a moment before pushing it away.
“Got to hit the can. Be right back,” he says, then gets up and shuffles across the room. He walks like an old man, his legs planting deliberate steps. I look away, unwilling to watch him struggle. I think about Nancy and what she’s going through, watching the man she loves disintegrate right in front
