Poker Face

His eyes shifted quickly, trying not to draw attention to his underlying intentions. A hand full of spades with more on the table. He was staring at a flush and he felt confident he wasn't going to dig himself into a hole this time. He took a sip of his watered-down whiskey and hoped he hadn't given himself away. He was a man that had been taught composure in the heat of a moment. His roots stretched back to the farm of the strong handed men before him. Hardy and tough. Home-grown. An apple that didn't fall far from the tree of fruit.

It all came down to this moment. Sweat ran across his forehead as the stakes increased. Should he pick up his winnings and call it a night? Or does the seed of the fire inside him burn too deep for quitting? After all he has been burned before.

The other men at the table appear calm and all too comfortable with their hoes sitting close by. Side pieces that accompanied them each Thursday night in the basement of the alley bar. He knew better than engaging in the infidelity game, poker was already challenging his marriage enough. 'Till death do us part.' He reminded himself regularly.

As he threw his last chunk of savings onto the table, he knew he was risking it all. But all he could see was what could be, a moment flowering with attainment. "All in." He said without a quiver in his voice. The river card was next. The fate of his future all in one card of the 52 in a deck.

His eyes widened and he didn't even realize he was holding his breath.

A heart hit the table. And his heart hit the floor.