“That is what this is about,” Lo says more heatedly. “I have four kids. I can’t be the father they need me to be when I’m drinking. You have a son. You can’t be the father he needs you to be when you’re using. And before you say it’s easy for me, it’s not. Every goddamn day, I think about it. Every day, I fight it.” His eyes flash to the Guinness, then away. “If it’s pride—” “I’m not too proud. I know what I am. I know what you think of me.” He cups his pint, the air thicker and strained. “I just don’t want my son to think I’m using him for connections.” I frown. “This is the one connection
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