The coping chronicles Part IV

The games we play...

It is Friday.
On our carpooled commute to office, he mentions, casually:
"Our team finally complained that we do not have much outings, or parties, etc. So we all pooled in money."
I nod. "Good. What have you planned?"
"So we are all doing a beer Friday, you know, like it happens...mostly to get people to come together, and not have to work for at least a Friday evening."

Yes, the focus is on meeting, bonding, relaxation, celebrating working together....not...not on drinking.
It is morning still. Nine hours of being away, to sink into work.
Maybe I should ask him that question. "Will you drink?
But what if he says "Yes. Not much...a bottle of beer." And then adds "Don't worry, ok? Have a good day."
How will I go through the day then? Dreading the evening, dreading the tiptoe around him, plagued by questions about how I will go away with her, get through the evening and whether he will sleep on time...
Or what if he says "Nah." Or "Let's see. If I drink I will tell you." Will that be any better? Would I trust him? Or maybe I will blame myself for putting thoughts into his head.
Yeah, right, I put those thoughts - and he had none of those when he planned the party.

Or maybe there is no party. He is just creating grounds to step into the Happy Hour nearby for a drink, or two, or many.

Cynic.
Moronic thoughts.
I am now an expert at shutting them out till I am ready.

 So, I just nod again. "Good good."
And step out when the car stops.
Away from those thoughts.

Playing a game. Both of us.
And both of us know it.
We have been playing it too long.
The bait, the hook, the suspense, the walking away.

I guess we are both scared too.