Osiris was beside himself. He had to stop drinking. Things were moving too quickly. Ambrose had just been another customer, then he’d seen him again and somehow ended up in the other’s home. Osiris stood, his pants still pooled at his ankles, his heart still racing from their recent rendezvous. They’d slept together. Osiris had only been with one other person, and that took years to get comfortable with, but here he was, with a stranger. He’s looking over at Ambrose, his eyes can finally analyze the other, instead of being focused on the lustful feelings he had towards the other. He doesn’t know what to say. So, he says the first thing that comes to his head, ‘ I’m sorry. ’ What was he sorry for? Osiris wasn’t sure.