The Final Spin

Here I was again, staring at the roulette table. A place I know I shouldn't be but can't stay away from. This very table had taken everything from me. My wife, having given me more chances than I deserved, had finally left. Friends closest to me dodged my calls and avoided me. I had sold every possession of value I had to cover my latest debt, even my car. And now, I stood here with the mortgage of my home turned into chips, hoping to reclaim what I had lost.

The dealer stared at me, bringing me back to the casino floor. "Good evening, sir, would you like to place a bet?" His hand swept through the air, signaling the start of the game. As the adrenaline surged through me, I placed everything I had left on red. Around me, others laid their bets, their chatter fading into the background as I cracked my fingers, a habit that had become a ritual.

The wheel began to spin as the dealer set the tiny white ball into motion. It danced across the wheel, a symphony of hops and clinks echoing my racing heartbeat. My hands clammed up, yet in that moment, I thrived on the delicious rush. Then, as if the world had slowed, the ball found its resting place on 27...red. An intense wave of relief washed over me. I leaped up, and with screams of victory, embraced the stranger next to me. Everything I had lost, I had now won back. Life had given me a second chance.

But as the noise of celebration began to fade, the dealer's voice cut through, "Would you like to place another bet?" The weight of his question brought me sharply back to reality. I hesitated, the happy memories briefly flickering through my mind—laughter-filled dinners, quiet evenings at home, the warmth of companionship—all lost to this addiction.

However, tonight felt different; I felt lucky. "Maybe just one more..."