Who's loving you?

She knew it was going to be another one of those nights, as she watched him pour
another glass of whiskey. She hated him when he drank, which was becoming more frequent nowadays. Her blood boiled with every sip he took as the poison slowly took control of his central nervous system. Of course he had no idea what effect alcohol had on him, he had no
recollection the following day. At first she thought it was all stress related, but as time passed she began to see a pattern emerging. The first time it happened, she didn't know what to do as
it was all so alien to her. Of course she had heard there were things to be mindful of, but she just wasn't sure how to handle it. From the limited information she got from the internet, she knew she would have to deal with this on her own.

When they got married her husband was tee total, in fact she was the bigger drinker of  the two. However over time their roles had reversed. He hated his job and seemed constantly disgruntled,which only encouraged him to drink more. He never opened up and shared his worries with her, instead he relied on alcohol as a source of comfort. A few beers after work always lead to another vodka, gin, or any other type of spirit. His personality changed when he drank, he turned into a vile beast. She was well aware  his issues ran deeper than just discontentment with his job. One thing he didn't shy away from talking about was his troubled childhood. He openly disclosed how he had been dragged up by his alcoholic mother. He tried to make a better life for himself by distancing himself from his family. He kept in touch with his younger sister now and again, mainly out of a misplaced sense of responsibility.

When he was drunk he would black out anywhere in the house, usually on the sofa. While he was passed out she would begin to panic. It all started a few months ago when he started to complain of dull sharp headaches. Her husband asked her more than once to book a doctors appointment, but it just kept slipping her mind on her list of things to do. It was an unspoken agreement that she tended to errands like that, she just kept forgetting.  As his headaches worsened his behaviour became more erratic.

As she sat watching TV one evening, he frightened the life out of her as he jumped up from the sofa and started walking towards the front door. He didn't acknowledge her at all, it was as if she was invisible. He put his coat on and walked outside barefoot into the pouring rain and stood motionless at the front gate. Still trying to comprehend what had just happened, all she could do was stand at the window frozen in terror and confusion. Unsure as to whether to go outside and save him from catching pneumonia, or just leave him there. She opted for the latter, knowing it wasn't wise to wake him, as he could inflict injury on either of them. As his drinking increased, so did his sleepwalking. Her patience was wearing thin, she was growing fatigued having to walk around her home on egg shells. The man she loved was slowly disappearing before her eyes. Any love she had for him had slowly diminished, all she felt for him was utter disdain.

Less than three weeks later his body was found in a pool of his own blood at the bottom of the stairs. He'd slipped on the wooden stairs while intoxicated and banged his head, he died instantly. Of course she was questioned by the police, and confirmed she wasn't aware of any health issues or any unusual behaviour. Smiling coyly at the police officer, she explained how annoyed she was at herself for not getting the stairs carpeted. She just never got round to sorting it out, and other errands for that matter.