Page 12 of A Sister's Secret

The warmth of his affirmation had been short-lived, fading as quickly as the amber liquid in his glass. It was a week later, and Oliver still seemed lost. He spent every evening in the office, looking at old photographs and not getting anywhere. Lisa watched as Oliver lifted the bottle again, his hands steady despite the tremors that rattled her own nerves. The twilight cast long shadows across their kitchen, a once cozy space now tainted by the specter of loss and addiction.

"Oliver," she tried, her voice a blend of tenderness and exasperation, "you said you'd consider getting help."

He scoffed, pouring another drink with a precision that betrayed his frequent practice.

"I can manage, Lisa. It's not like I'm falling apart at the seams."

His chuckle was hollow, echoing against the walls adorned with family photos—their smiles a stark contrast to the tension that hung between them.

"Please," she implored, her gaze begging him to see reason. But he only turned away, his silhouette rigid against the windowpane.

"Look around, love. This," he gestured vaguely, encompassing the room, the house, their life, "is how I cope. My sister is gone, and this"—he raised the glass to his lips—"numbs the pain. It's my burden to bear." The words fell heavily into the silence, each one a nail in the coffin of his denial.

Lisa's heart ached, recognizing in his stance the same stubborn resolve that had drawn her to him. But where there was once passion and conviction, now there was only a desperate clinging to the ghosts of the past.

Retreating to the bedroom, she pulled out her phone and dialed Maggie, the ringtone cutting through the quiet with an urgency that mirrored Lisa's pulse. When her friend's voice answered, warm and familiar, it was all Lisa could do to keep her own from breaking.

"Maggie, it's me," she whispered, her words quick and hushed. "I don't know what to do anymore. Oliver's drinking… it's getting worse. He won't listen to me. He says it's his way of dealing with things, but I'm scared. For him, for the kids…."

There was a pause, and then Maggie’s calm assurance filled her ear. "Sweetheart, you're doing everything you can. But you have to think about your children too. They need a stable environment, especially now."

Tears blurred the edges of Lisa's vision, and she wiped them away with a shaky hand. "I know, I just… I thought if we loved him enough and surrounded him with care, he'd come back to us."

"Love is powerful, Lisa, but it's not always enough to fight someone else's demons," Maggie replied softly. "Sometimes they have to face those on their own. You've got to protect yourself and those kids first and foremost."

"Thank you, Maggie. I'll… I'll figure something out."

Lisa hung up the phone, her decision heavy in her chest. There was no thrill in the prospect of confronting the man she loved, no excitement in the suspense of the unknown road ahead. Only the heartwarming certainty that she would do whatever it took to keep her family safe.

The afternoon sun spilled across the kitchen table, igniting the amber hues in Lisa's hair as she sat, a steaming mug of coffee between her palms. The usual comforting aroma couldn't ease the knot in her stomach, nor could the warmth seep into her trembling fingers. She gazed out the window, where golden leaves danced in the breeze, whispering of change.

"Lisa?" Maggie's voice was gentle but firm, pulling her back from the whirlwind of thoughts. They had been talking for hours now, with Lisa revealing the depth of the hardship she was going through, which had been going on for two months. Oliver’s drinking was getting worse, and he was absent as a husband and father. His need for answers had become an obsession, and it was tearing them apart.

"You know I wouldn't say this if I didn't believe it was necessary. I love you guys. I love your family. But right now, you are struggling. He’s dragging you all down. For you and for the kids… it might be time to put some distance between you and Oliver, at least for a little while. Show him you mean business if he doesn’t change."

The suggestion hung in the air, heavy and daunting. Lisa's heart lurched at the thought, her love for Oliver battling against the cold grip of fear that had taken residence in her chest.

"Separate?" The word felt foreign on her tongue, tasting of betrayal and abandonment. "But he's my husband, Maggie. In sickness and in health, right?"

"Of course," Maggie reached out, her hand warm over Lisa's. "But this sickness is hurting all of you. Setting boundaries doesn't mean giving up on him. Think of it as… stepping back to see the whole picture."

Lisa's mind raced, images of their life together flickering like an old film reel—the laughter-filled days at the café, Oliver helping little Julia learn to walk, or having her in his lap while doing woodwork, his arms wrapped around her in the quiet of the night. How could she untangle those memories from the recent nights filled with shouting and fear?

"Oliver loves us," Lisa whispered, more to herself than to Maggie. Her hazel eyes were stormy with doubt. "He's just lost right now."

"Lost or not, you can't let him pull you all down with him." Maggie's voice was steady, a lighthouse amidst the tempest raging inside Lisa. "Think about Ethan, Abigail, Daniel, and Julia. They're looking to you to keep them safe. You can all stay with me. I have this whole house to myself, and I’m not even here half the time. I’m always at the tavern."

A vision of Ethan, wide-eyed and confused after one of Oliver's recent outbursts, flashed before Lisa. The mother lioness within her roared to life, protective instincts overpowering the doubts that chained her to inaction.

"Okay," Lisa breathed, a tremulous sigh that held the weight of her world. "We'll stay with you for a while. Just… until things get better."

"Good." Maggie squeezed her hand, a silent symbol of solidarity. "I'm here for you, always. You're not alone in this."

As Lisa stood, resolve settling over her like armor, the last rays of sunlight kissed the edge of the horizon, setting the sky aflame. The beauty of the moment wasn't lost on her; even as her heart ached, it was buoyed by the thrilling spark of hope that came with taking control.

She'd fight with everything she had, a fierce love guiding her through the suspenseful unknown. Oliver's demons would not claim her family, not if she had anything to say about it.

The evening air was heavy with the scent of pine and an impending storm when the sharp crack of Oliver's voice sliced through the tranquility of their home. "You just don't understand, Lisa! I have to do this—for her, for me!"

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