You don't let it pass. You shake your head, not making a thing of it but not dodging either. "I don't drink anymore," you say, keeping it even, like a preference rather than a confession. She takes it in without surprise, nods once. "Alright. That's fair." "It's not dramatic," you add, almost by habit. "Just easier this way." "Easier is good," she says, a faint smile. "We like easier." You lean back, and the moment settles into something quieter. No awkwardness, no pressure to fill the space with details you'd rather not give. She doesn't ask why, and you don't offer it. "You're still coming, though," she says, lighter now. "No one's forcing anything on you. Show up, have something that isn't alcohol, judge everyone from a safe distance." "I'm very good at that." "I've noticed." A small pause. "And if you do feel like talking, you don't need a drink for that." You meet her eyes, then nod. "I know." The conversation eases back to something neutral, but the decision sits differently now, clearer, like you've set the terms before stepping into whatever comes next. She stands, brushing her hands together. "I'll send you the details. We'll head there after work." "I'll be there." As she walks off, you sit a moment longer, the noise of the room settling back in. You didn't avoid anything this time, and the decision feels steadier for it. For once, it's on your terms. [[Cybercrime/The_Phisherman/Back to work (Sober)|Back to work]]