My heart sinks.
He’s been drinking again.
This I know from the flash of anger in his eyes, the purposeful way he strides towards me. My knees tremble as I stand my ground. Last time he threw my favourite ornament at me and it shattered as it hit my head. It left a scar.
I still love him.
He never drinks at home.
He’s been with her.
She enables him.
She loves him too.
But I wish my mother would stop giving my two-year-old orange squash.
He can’t cope with the additives.
I can’t cope with his personality change.
It’s been months since I last took part in Friday Fictioneers. I’ve been so busy launching my 5th psychological thriller ‘The Family‘ but thought I’d join in the fun again today before I get stuck into the structural edit for next year’s release ‘The Stolen Sisters.’