They talked late into the night, as if they were old friends. And Stoner came to realize that she was, as she had said, almost happy with her despair; she would live her days out quietly, drinking a little more, year by year, numbing herself against the nothingness her life had become. He was glad she had that, at least; he was grateful that she could drink.
is that really how you would feel when you learn that your daughter is an slcoholic - due mainly to her toxic upbringing - which your own weekness in not fighting for hrr contributed to??
