He polished off a chicken breast and put down his utensils. “When I came back home, I was still furious at you. And I was humiliated … that I couldn’t even do the one thing that I was always good at. But more than anything, I was really depressed. I could have tried again. I knew I would have gotten it right the second time. But I also knew that it wasn’t a smart move. I had all this emotion and no way to let it out. So I acted the way most angry, humiliated, and depressed men do. I went for chemical relief. I was already drinking a lot. It numbed me a little, but it wasn’t enough.” A shrug. “Heroin is a great drug. I went from not being able to get out of bed in the morning to ‘Life ain’t so bad, I can handle this.’”

I drained my wineglass.

He said, “This country is never going to solve the opiate crisis. I had a lot going for me and I succumbed. Poor people with shit lives … why shouldn’t they escape?” He gave me some of his broccoli. “You like veggies. Eat something, angel.”

I picked up a floret and nibbled at the buds. He picked up his flatware and ate another breast, followed it up with forkfuls of broccoli.

He said, “It wasn’t my first rodeo with the hard stuff. I had experimented in high school with all sorts of shit. Then, after you left me the first time, I went full force. I was upset about being dumped, but it wasn’t just you. It was also being under Joey’s thumb. It was being married to Maria. It was shooting people. I just couldn’t cope.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past,” he told me. “I don’t think about it much. All I’m saying is the shit helped me get over the hump twice. Second time I used it, after you left me, I was developing this place and the drug gave me peace of mind to work. Not optimally, but I could concentrate enough to get my enterprise off the ground. Talia was helping with the details. She kept me on track. And she was also convenient.”

I didn’t say anything.

He said, “She wasn’t the only one, Terry. Not by a long shot. I was thirty-four. I was in good shape physically … Well, maybe my liver wasn’t so hot. But I had anger to dispel and I had energy. I was fucking everything in sight. Two, three, four times a day, weekends even more. Threesomes, foursomes, orgies, every kind of fantasy I could create. Girls and guys, I didn’t care.” He looked at me. “I love women, but sometimes a great blow job from a cute guy is just primo. Men know what feels good.”

I stared at him. “Did you always feel that way? About men?”