Her words continued to work over his heart like nails on a chalkboard; he had only himself to blame for the turn in conversation, however. He knew that full well. Still, it didn't make it any the easier to let off that path. Torturing himself with words seemed a right punishment. Alyssa's own torture in relation to the topic was nothing more than collateral damage.

"Alone has too much a ring of finality to it, 'Lys," he said, taking another shot of the whiskey between them. "You're here. I'm here. That's not alone."

He knew she did not mean alone in the sense of physically; he knew because it was the same way he felt. But, he was good at pushing off how alone he felt inside. Good at ignoring that tug of utter hopelessness and utter sorrow that gripped his stomach on a regular basis. Lifting his glass after filling it again, he spoke sarcastically: "To being here."

And he downed it just as quickly.