as being anxiety triggered.
‘Okay. What did you buy?’
She kicked the cupboard. ‘You’re doing it again, questioning everything I do.’
‘After what you’ve put me through in the past, I feel as though I’ve earned that right. You’ve abused my trust in you too many times. I’m trying to protect this family and last time I looked, you’re part of it.’ He snatched her bag.
‘Give it back.’ This was part of her plan. Not an ideal part but it was okay for him to see. The contents of her bag would give him something to latch onto. She tried to reach over but he kept turning his back towards her as he dropped her purse onto the floor, followed by a packet of sweets; then he dropped a few scrunched up tissues and a make-up bag. Her compact shattered on the floor and he stopped.
‘You’ve broken it. That was my grandmother’s.’
Ignoring her, he continued to rummage. ‘So this is what you were up to.’ He pulled the offending item out of her bag.
She swallowed and turned away. After giving it to him on a plate, shame still burned inside her. Her breath quickened and she felt the urge to sob and cry, to hit something, anything. She slammed her fist onto the table, feeling the instant burn to her knuckles as one of them cracked a little.
‘I thought this,’ he pointed to the unopened miniature bottle of vodka, ‘was in the past.’
A tear slid down her cheek and she fell into the chair, her outburst finally passing. That tiny bottle of happy juice was only the tip of the problem that consumed her every thought, especially with what was happening. What lay beneath would shatter him; the vodka he could deal with. He unscrewed the bottle and poured it down the sink.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I told you, you can always talk to me. We could’ve talked about this. We will talk about this and I’m going to help you. You need to get on top of this for the sake of our children. They don’t need to see us go through all that heartache again.’
She’d hurt him but small sacrifices had been made. She had every intention of drinking the vodka. The very thought of the warm liquid sliding down her throat made her tingle. She loved nothing more than that initial fuzzy feeling as the alcohol seeped into her bloodstream and slowed her heart rate down. She’d have been able to sleep soundly and forget everything. That little bottle had sat in her bag for several weeks and she hadn’t touched it once. Just knowing it was there had given her the comfort she’d required. Now he’d poured it away, that sense of panic had returned.
‘I’ve got to be up in a couple of hours so we best go to bed. My class isn’t going to teach itself.’ He dropped the bottle in the bin and pulled her into the hall as he turned the kitchen light off.
‘I wasn’t going to drink it, I promise.’
He manoeuvred towards the stairs and nudged her, giving her no option but to climb them.
He didn’t believe her. The absence of a reply told her all she needed to know. He was right. She may have drunk it when she’d got back from her little middle-of-the-night outing, she may have drunk it when she was at work at the nursing home the next day, or she may have enjoyed it at home. Most of all, she wanted to know it was there, that’s all. After the week she’d had, she’d shown great strength in not drinking it, but she couldn’t tell him that. He couldn’t know what she was doing, not now, not ever.
Chapter Eleven
Gina finished yet another coffee; anything that would help her to stay awake before she addressed the team was a bonus. The chill in her office sent a shiver down her spine. A few raindrops battered the window and a gust of wind coming through the tiny vent made her blinds clatter. She pulled the tangled cord to open them and gazed out across the dark car park, wondering if daylight would actually break through the gloomy morning.
A quiet knock almost startled her. As she called out ‘Come in’, the young woman from administration dropped a letter on her desk. ‘Thank you.’ The woman smiled before leaving. She glanced at the envelope that had been marked up ‘Private and Confidential’.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes as she toyed with the letter. After going home,