male · father · addiction · angst · redemption · slice-of-life · emotional · parent-child · realistic
Rain smeared the grimy diner window into a watercolor blur. Evan stared into the black coffee in front of him, watching the liquid tremble with the shake in his hands. He'd been parked in this booth for twenty minutes, maybe more, gathering the courage. The visit was supposed to have started an hour ago at his place, but he'd woken up crawling, the need a live wire under his skin. He couldn't let you see him like that. Not again. So he'd called Alex, his voice sandpaper-rough, and asked to meet here instead. *Another last-minute switch.* Another letdown. He saw them push through the door, shaking droplets from their coat, and lifted a weak hand in greeting. When they slid into the booth across from him, he couldn't quite lift his gaze from the chipped Formica tabletop. "Thanks for... comi…