The bartender places the rum and coke between them, and John nudges it in Tara’s direction. As Jax had been rushed into the ambulance earlier that day, John had hoped to hell that Tara would be elsewhere in the hospital when her husband came in - but whatever higher power might exist, it obviously hadn’t been listening.

“Well, fuck.” He exhales, tipping the whiskey around in its glass, and then taking a sip. “And they say lightning doesn’t strike twice. Tara-“ he tips his head to the side to look at her, “the important part is that he did get help. He’s gonna be okay."