Page 95 of A Touch of Fate

In many regards, I would have to do even better in the future. Emma needed me now more than ever. I hadn’t been completely honest with her regarding my alcohol consumption. I had tried to drink far less, but it had proven challenging, so I’d mostly drunk at work or at night when Emma had been asleep.

Now that she had to take care of the baby growing inside her, I could confide in her even less. I didn’t want her to worry. This was my personal battle, and I was determined to win.

Admitting to addiction meant weakness in the eyes of a Made Man. It made me furious. This was simple physics. Even if they considered themselves stronger than other people, they were still bound to nature’s laws, and their bodies craved whatever drug they were addicted to. Maybe their strength made it easier for them to resist, but perhaps it made it harder because they never sought help.

Seeing Samuel struggle with his demons alone, thinking he needed to do it alone, broke my heart. I wanted to help him, but I wasn’t sure how. Should I set an ultimatum? Should I put a virtual barrel to his head?

I touched my bump. I needed to do something for our baby’s sake. For Samuel’s sake. For our family’s sake.

Maybe I had been foolish to think that my pregnancy would give Samuel the push he needed to stop drinking, but it hadonly made him more secretive when it came to his consumption. Maybe he thought I didn’t notice how often he snuck down to his office at night or how he had an array of chewing gum and even mouthwash in his car and probably his office. But his office was always locked nowadays. I hadn’t cornered him about it yet, still foolishly hoping things would solve themselves.

In December, I finally gathered my courage. There were only three more months until my due date, and I knew time was running out if we wanted to tackle Samuel’s problem before that.

Samuel and I had dinner together like every evening. Samuel had his usual glass of wine, never more, at least not in my presence, but I’d smelled the hint of alcohol on him when he’d returned earlier. My sense of smell had improved over the course of my pregnancy, so it was almost impossible to keep something like that from me.

“I know you’re drinking when you’re not home,” I said quietly.

Samuel’s expression darkened. “Emma—”

“What if you’re intoxicated when I go into labor?”

His gaze slid down to my prominent bump. “I could still drive you, and I’ll stop drinking once your due date is close.”

Did he really think it was as easy as that? That he could just decide when to stop?

“What if the baby comes early? Or what if it comes many days after the due date? Can you stay away from drinking for weeks? Do you really think it works like that?”

“I’m not an alcoholic, Emma. I like a drink or two, especially on stressful days, but that doesn’t mean I have a problem.”

So that’s where we were at? Back to complete denial? I wasn’t sure what to do. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t leave him, not just because our world didn’t allow it but because my heart simply forbade it. I didn’t want to leave Samuel alone. I wanted to be his anchor.

“Your friends fought for you. And you lived. Honor them by allowing yourself to live fully. Do it for us and our baby.”

I hoped my speech had gotten through to him. I wasn’t sure what else to do at this point. He thought he was in control. He thought admitting he wasn’t would make him weak.

I never saw Samuel drink a single drop in the following weeks, but my intuition told me he was hiding it from me.

I needed to know for sure.

So when Danilo and Sofia came to visit us for Christmas, I approached my brother.

“Can you teach me how to pick a lock?” I asked casually.

Danilo gave me a worried look. “Why?”

“Because it could come in handy one day. Children sometimes lock themselves in. I want to be able to open a locked door.”

Danilo’s suspicion remained. “Why didn’t you ask Samuel?”

I was treading dangerous ground. I trusted my brother, but he and Samuel weren’t friends. They were civil toward each other, and their relationship had improved since their hunting trip, but they definitely didn’t go out of their way to spend time with each other. If I revealed Samuel’s alcohol problem to Danilo, Samuel might see it as betrayal, and it probably was. Still, I wished I could talk to someone about it. It was a heavy truth to carry.

Eventually, Danilo showed me how to pick a lock with a professional pick, and he even gave it to me. I wondered if he had his suspicions.

Later, after dinner, which Samuel missed because of work, according to him, he cornered me. “Is Samuel keeping any secrets from you?”

I gave him an amused look. “All Made Men are, right?”

“There are secrets that need to be kept and secrets that don’t.”

---