One day, you will say it to me again. You will be sober. And you will mean it.” I was actually terrified that I already meant it. A guy might just be a keeper who hears your cry for help in his head. And comes into a den of thieves to get you out. And then holds your hair while you throw up for ten minutes. Then again, I was in no condition to judge. But that old saying kept rattling around in my head. “ In vino veritas ,” I whispered, faintly appalled. “What?” “Nothing.” I looked up at him as he pulled me back to my feet. “Let’s go home.