He didn’t walk out with the normal confidence that I was accustomed to. He almost staggered, as if he was struggling to carry the weight of the past...on his shoulders. That night I went home and tried to drown my guilt in a bottle of wine, and forget the sadness that I had caused to appear in the man’s eyes. His pain was so obvious and still so intense, even though he had lost her so many years before. As I lay in bed, my head spinning from the Shiraz, I decided I had to help him. I didn’t know. This was gonna be a strange, and probably difficult weekend. ‘Welcome miss Becky,’ the man said with a distinctly English accent. ‘It’s so good to have you back, and who is this decorated gentleman?’ ‘Hey Winston,’ Becky said, hugging him. ‘This is Andrew. Babe, this is Winston, he’s the head of the staff as well as my parents personal butler.’ ‘Pleasure to meet you Winston,’ I said, shaking his hand. Becky and Winston began talking as he led us to our room. Normally I would have tried to. More

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