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"I don't know what to do man. I really fucked up. I fucked up so bad." My brother huffed, leaning on the side of my pool table.
I held my lit cigar on the side of my mouth, as I concentrated on the black eight ball, I was gonna hit in the corner pocket.
As soon as I tapped it, with the chalked up end, I stood up, taking a puff, looking at him, a bit annoyed.
"Look, it sounds like you've dug yourself into this mess. I've been telling you for years, you have a gambling addiction, but you're so fucking hardheaded. You never listen to anyone, and that's your downfall." I said, before taking a swig of my beer.
He came over a little while ago, ranting to me how his wife is divorcing him, because he's been frivolous with his money.
I mean, I can't really blame her.
She's pretty much the main breadwinner, in the relationship.
He makes pretty good money, but she's pretty much the one keeping them afloat, yet he's blowing it at casinos, and poker games.
Dumb as fuck if you ask me.
"I know, but I'm trying to make it right. I need your help man. Can you talk to her for me? I can't lose her, and the kids." He said, hanging his head in shame.
"I can't make any promises, cause this is your fucking mess, but I'll see what I can do. Until then, you need to get into some kind of rehab program." I said, finishing off my beer
"Man, I can't afford that, and I know she won't wanna give me the money, cause she doesn't trust me with it."
It's amazing how fucked he is, it's almost comical.
"I'll pay for it, just get your shit together man. Kalima's a great woman, and you're fucking it up. Now rack em up, so I can kick your ass again."
~
A Few Days Later
Pulling up to my sister-in law's home, I got out of the car, adjusting my jacket on my shoulders.
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