I was starting to suspect that there was more to Joren’s drinking. Whatever it was, judging by Rowdy’s reaction, I’d also guessed that Joren hadn’t shared his woes with his friends. I still didn’t like his ass, but I could empathize, which was more kindness than he’d ever shown me. Joren hadn’t been cruel necessarily, just indifferent. I couldn’t understand why it grated on me. Nevertheless, I knew what it was like to walk through hell and feel like there was no one or nothing to turn to except your own self-destruction.
