Ah, Christ. Graves’ head felt like a watermelon that had been squeezed between a wrestler’s thighs. Memories filtered in - it had been the 4th of July, and he and his boys had gone to Vegas and gotten drunk. He vaguely remembered winning at blackjack, drinking with his team, and ending up in a club… He’s in a hotel room, a wreck. He rolls over and collides with someone in the bed. He’s about to react defensively when he notices a wedding ring on his finger and on the other person’s finger. “Ah, fuck.”