‘Used to,’ he echoed. Then he frowned. ‘You don’t laugh any more, do you?’
But I couldn’t speak. Instead, I wiped away the tear that rolled down my face.
He lifted the box of photos onto the floor, then slid closer to me. ‘What happened, Edie? To us?’ Ryan’s voice was gentle, his eyes piercing as he looked at me.
I shrugged. ‘Somewhere along the line, I think we changed.’ My voice broke. Moving towards him, I leaned against the familiarity of his shoulder, felt one of his hands reach up and stroke my tears away. For a moment, I felt a flicker of the way I used to feel, which I hadn’t felt in years. But it was gone just as quickly.
‘I guess we have.’ He sighed. ‘Do you think we could go back to how we used to be?’
As I gazed at him through my tears, I wished so much that it was possible. But as he picked up his glass, I knew it wasn’t. ‘Oh, Ryan…’ I could only be honest. ‘I’m not sure.’
He leaned forward, putting down his glass and resting his elbows on his knees. ‘What if I said I really wanted to try?’ he said slowly. ‘What would it take?’
It was here, the moment I’d dreaded. But for once, we were actually listening to each other. I knew there would never be a better time. I took one of his hands. ‘I’ve been wondering if maybe you should talk to someone. I know you think you don’t drink a lot, but you drink much more than you used to.’ As I waited for an angry outburst from him, my hands start to shake. But I forced myself to go on. ‘It’s changed things. Changed us. I don’t know how else we…’
He placed a finger to my lips, as if to silence me. But I moved away from him. ‘I need to say this, Ryan. It’s important. This isn’t just about us. It’s about the kids, too. Your drinking is affecting all of us.’ I paused, then I told him. When it came to how Ollie felt, he needed to know. ‘Ollie doesn’t want to have his birthday party here.’
Ryan frowned. ‘What does that have to do with me?’
I stared at him. ‘Firstly, he’s your son. Secondly, it’s all about you. He doesn’t want his friends to see you drunk.’
Getting up, Ryan went over to the window. His body was tight as he stood there. ‘This is madness,’ he said.
‘I agree.’ I stared at his back. ‘Ollie should feel able to invite his friends here.’
‘I mean it’s madness that he thinks I drink that much.’ He turned, anger briefly registering in his eyes.
‘You do, though.’ I watched him. ‘The problem is you don’t see yourself as others see you.’
‘Jesus.’ For a moment he didn’t speak. ‘I have a few drinks. So do most people I know. That doesn’t make me an alcoholic.’ But he didn’t meet my eyes. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Get some help,’ I said. ‘Talk to someone.’ In the silence that followed, I realised just how desperate I was for him to do something.
‘I’ll call the medical practice on Monday,’ he said quietly. ‘Ask if they can recommend someone.’
‘You mean that?’ I hardly dared believe he was saying it.
‘I have to, don’t I?’ he muttered. ‘It’s not like I have a choice. We can’t go on like this.’
To my amazement, Ryan took my concerns on board, starting that evening, when instead of going to the pub, he stayed at home. After picking you and Ollie up from Lucy’s, when we got home, the four of us watched a movie on TV. Then on Sunday, we had lunch together, one from which alcohol was noticeably absent, after which we went for a walk. The change in you and Ollie was palpable. But there was still a wariness. And I understood; trust was going to take longer.
Monday came. For the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful about the future. When Ryan came in from work that evening, I looked at him expectantly. ‘How did you get on?’ I asked.
‘I was meant to call the medical practice, wasn’t I?’ But his eyes didn’t meet mine. ‘I forgot,’ he said evasively.
I stared at him. ‘Oh.’ After raising my hopes, I had an overwhelming sense of feeling let down.
‘It was a busy day. I’ll do it tomorrow,’ he said.
Nothing more was said. But when the same happened again on Tuesday night, doubts were setting in. If Ryan didn’t do something, to use his own words: we couldn’t go on like this.
On Wednesday, I was prepared.
‘I’m not going to ask you if you called the doctor.’ I could see from the look on his face that he hadn’t. ‘But I found this.’ I handed him the details I’d printed out about an AA group that met nearby on Thursday nights.
‘That’s tomorrow.’ He looked uneasy. Then he stepped towards me and went to put his arms around me.
But I stepped back. He needed to know I was serious. ‘This is important. Probably the most important thing you can do – for yourself. For us. You gave me your word,’ I said softy. ‘Please don’t go back on it.’
