‘I’m not starting,’ I say, when in reality, that’s exactly what I’m doing. ‘We need to find you help again.’
He shakes his head. ‘I’m not going back into that place.’
‘I’m not saying you have to. But maybe you could try an AA meeting? They hold them twice a week at a church in town.’
Drew removes his asthma inhaler from his pocket, and I wait until he takes two puffs.
‘I can go weeks without a drink,’ he argues.
‘And when you start again, you make up for lost time by bingeing. You have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol.’
A darkness descends upon him. I can see it in his eyes. I don’t like the version of him that’s about to rear its head.
‘I’ll tell you what, Anna,’ he sneers. ‘I’ll get help for my “unhealthy relationship with alcohol” when you get help to stop your own unhealthy relationships.’
My face heats up.
‘I haven’t done that in a long time,’ I say.
‘Really?’
He edges closer to me and I swallow hard. I worry that one day, his verbal aggression will manifest itself as something physical. But I can’t abandon him. I love him. I open my mouth to protest again but he beats me to it.
‘The bedsheets don’t lie,’ he says.
Then he opens a cupboard and thrusts a bin bag at me. It’s transparent and I see the stains on the bedding and the other objects I threw away.
‘Not nice being spied on, is it? I told you I wasn’t going to drink again and you told me you weren’t going to do that again. Yet this is where we find ourselves.’
He grabs the car keys from a cabinet and slams the back door so hard behind him, the glass vibrates.
I make my way into the lounge and sink into the sofa. I thought I’d been careful. Is he going to tell Liv or Margot? I’d hate for Liv to think any less of me. She might not want to be my friend anymore.
And it only takes worrying about it to make me want to spiral again.
Chapter 18
Margot
I hold my breath as the front door opens, delaying the inevitable sight and stench that awaits. If the kids and Nicu have spent the weekend vomiting, then the house will need either fumigating or burning down and rebuilding. But as I step inside, it’s not as bad as I thought.
My suitcase has barely touched the floor when Nicu appears. Over his shoulder I spot his parents in my lounge, glaring at me with their piggy little eyes. He must have rallied the stormtroopers to assist while he and the kids were under the weather.
‘How the hell did you spend so much money in two days?’ he demands to know.
I thought I might have a grace period before Nicu noticed I’ve drained our account. And by then, I might’ve found a way to pay it back without him noticing. But I forgot he’s set up push notifications that flash up on his phone every time a payment has been made. Bloody technology shafts me again.
‘It was a misunderstanding,’ I say. ‘I didn’t realise I was going to have to pay for my stay or my treatments.’
‘You said the weekend was Liv’s treat.’
I lower my voice. ‘Can we not do this here?’
I lead him upstairs, leaving him to pick up my suitcase and his parents to imagine our conversation. I bet they’ve been egging him on because I’ll never match up to his ex. Even if she was a mad, vindictive bitch. I thank my lucky stars they stay at a hotel each time they travel to the UK. I don’t want to put up with them, let alone put them up.
I try to explain to him the misunderstanding over the vouchers but he can’t understand why I didn’t ask to split the bill three ways.
I let out a half-laugh, half-snort. ‘And have her think I can’t pay my way? Have you met me, Nicu? I’m not a charity case.’
