Trevor slumped over the kitchen table. A bottle of Jack Daniel's stood vigil over his hunched frame. Ice clinked against the glass as he spun the drink around. Veronica watched him watch his drink from the hallway.
"Bad day?" She winced, wanting to smack herself for stating the obvious. Trevor acknowledged the question with a muffled grunt. Crossing the room, she reached the refrigerator and leaned against the cool metal. She knew that she would be there for a while.
"Trev?" At this, he picked his head up. His eyes ran up her figure. When reaching her mouth, he let out a chuckle.
"Welp, looks like you're concerned." He took a large swig of whisky, winced as it burned down his throat, and reached for the bottle to refill his glass. "Isn't that a pleasant surprise?"
Veronica shifted her weight, uncomfortable with the assertion. She ran a hand through her hair. "What's going on?"
Trevor pursed his lips, a feigned attempt at keeping the truth at bay, sealing his mouth from uttering the words that had finally become reality. He took another gulp before beginning.
"Fired. They fired me." He choked a bit on the whisky, coughing dryly into his fist. "Twelve damn years and they fired me. Isn't that a joke? I've been working extra hours, I've been spending time with Daron and Evans. All these things that you're supposed to do, that they tell you to do, I did it. I did all of it. And what? They fire me?" He picked up the glass to take another swig but slammed it down in disgust. He was repulsed by his inadequacy. "They fired me?" With each utterance, the word seemed to lose some steam. With each repetition, the reality began to dawn on Trevor. Veronica watched as the truth came to his lips. "They fired me."
For a few moments, Veronica stood motionless. She wasn't sure if the tears were coming, she didn't want to impose. Words were worthless, she knew that his anger would be directed towards her should she decide to offer any condolences. Times like these, she could never find the right thing to say. Instead, she played with her fingernails. It was remarkable how much dirt was under them. As she picked away the grime, the nails scrapped against one another. They made a sort of clicking sound, not too dissimilar from typing on a keyboard. Trevor glared at her hands, furious at the intrusion. She pinned them behind her back, a punishment for her ignorance.
Trevor sank his head onto the table with a thump. Veronica slid onto the floor and brought her knees to her chest. They stayed like that for a few hours.