The Accidental Wife (Emily and Julian)

I haven't seen Knox in a long time and I'm glad that he is here. miss spending my time with him and lately, he has been busy with the football season like every other player. I thought about visiting him in Colorado, but I know how full his schedule is, and he needs the few days he gets off to prepare for his wedding. I can't just take him away from Sabrina on those days. I remember how busy I was when I was preparing for my wedding with Rosie while being in the middle of the football season.

We're going to a pub where we're meeting our friends and I'm pretty excited. All my friends are football players and they're very busy with the season, so managing to go out with some of them in their free time is a great opportunity I don't want to miss. If I were playing during this season, I wouldn't feel lonely.

It turns out that beside spending time with Rosie and playing football, I don't have a life, so losing football even if this loss is temporary has a deep impact on me. I'm not proud that I find solace in getting drunk, but I'm trying to detach myself from reality as much as possible. I understand that what I'm doing is far from healthy, but right now, this is the only effective painkiller.

"For the first time in a long while, you're not the designated driver," Knox points out and I chuckle. It's funny how I used to be the designated driver, because I didn't enjoy getting drunk, but now I'm the one who gets wasted.

"I get to drink as much as I want!" I exclaim as we both walk inside the pub.

B

"Yeah, but don't go overboard. We're supposed to spend the night with Rosie and Sabrina. They're going to kill us if we get to your place all drunk and wasted," he reminds me.

Ithink Rosie is starting to get used to seeing me drunk. I'm certain that she's not fond of that version of me, but there's nothing she can do. Even if she hides all the liquor in the house, I can easily buy other bottles. I see the way she looks at me when I get drunk and I hate the look of disappointment I always catch in her eyes, but currently, this is how I cope. At least, this is better than getting addicted to drugs.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

We spend three hours at the bar and while Knox only drinks a pint of beer, I end up drinking three. When I go to order whiskey, Knox stops me, making me look at him in confusion.

"You're the designated driver, remember?" I remind him, nodding at the bartender to get me the glass of whiskey.

"This is too much. You shouldn't get this drunk, Silas." He looks at me with disapproval, making me roll my eyes. Rosie is already giving me a fair share of looks of disapproval. I don't need more from Knox. "Knox, I want to have fun. Don't be a party pooper," I say and chug the whiskey placed in front of me.

"It's a good thing we're leaving," he mutters before pulling me away from the bar, causing me to wince due to the way I suddenly move my knee. He stops and gives me an apologetic look as he says, "Sorry, man." I nod, not saying anything and follow him to my car. I get in the passenger seat and Knox takes us to my place.

"Do you have a drinking problem, Silas?" Knox breaks the silence.

"I don't," I lie. I know that I have a drinking problem, but he doesn't have to know about that.

"Silas, my dad was an alcoholic. You're my best friend and I only want the best for you, so I'm only saying this because I care about you. I think you should seek professional help," Knox tells me, and I scoff.

"I'm fine, Knox. I don't need help." It's funny how everyone is giving me pieces of advice as if they were in my shoes. Nobody understands what I'm going through. They don't know how painful the void I'm feeling is. They don't know what it feels like to wake up one day and find out you've been deprived of doing something you love for almost a year.

"No, Silas. You're not fine," he mutters. "You're not the same person you used to be. The Silas I know didn't drink like that. You were more rational and responsible."

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17:02

My blood is boiling. He keeps comparing how I am now to how used to be before getting injured, and this is not fair. I was useful. I had a whole team depending on me because I was the king of touchdowns, but right now, I'm nothing. I can't even stand for long because of my fucking knee. I can't drive because I need to keep it stretched. Fortunately, I can now walk around with the cane, but I still have a limp that is gradually disappearing. Talking with Knox reawakes all the dark thoughts I tried to suppress by drinking at the pub, so the moment I walk inside the house, I make my way to the kitchen and grab a bottle of beer from the fridge.

"Hell to the no." Knox snatches it from my grip the moment he sees me about to sit on the couch with the bottle in

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I shout, trying to get the bottle back from him.

my

hand.

"What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you? You're the one who doesn't seem to get enough alcohol. You're destroying your body!" he snaps at me.

"I know what I'm doing. Giving me that!" I argue with him. Sadly, this is the last bottle I have, so I can't go to the fridge to fetch another one.

"What's going on?" Rosie's voice catches my attention. Has she just arrived? Has she been in the house all this time?

"He thinks he can prevent me from drinking!" I yell, looking at her. As expected, she looks at me like she doesn't know who I am. Honestly, I don't blame her. I know I'm not the man she married, but I don't think I can go back to the man she fell in love with easily. I need a strong incentive to go back to how I used to be and I don't know where to find this incentive.

"Maybe it's because you need to stop drinking." I scoff at what she says, knowing she is going to side with Knox. She hates how much I drink. We fought a lot about this, and every time, I promised her to get things under control, but each promise became unfulfilled. Another thing I'm not proud of.

"You can't tell me what to do and what not to do, Rosie." Despite the shooting pain in my knee, I walk over to her.

"I can when I see that all you're doing is destroy yourself," she fights me back. Sometimes, I feel sorry for my wife. She has been trying to get me back to how I used to be, but all her efforts have gone in vain. Her love is not enough to put some sense into me.

"I'm Silas Cromwell. I have made a big name for myself that I no longer need others' guidance," I remind her of who I am. Or maybe I'm reminding myself? Maybe I'm trying to convince myself that I'm still relevant.

"Apparently you need someone to knock some sense into you if this is how you talk to your wife," Knox quickly defends my wife. Why is he defending her? Does he think that I'm going to hurt her?

"And you think you're fit enough to teach me how to talk to my wife?" I challenge my best friend. I don't know what I'm doing exactly, but I have a strong feeling that I'm messing things up.

"I think you need to go upstairs," Rosie tells me in defeat as she holds my arm. I hate that I made her reach this state, but I feel powerless. There's nothing I can do to fix myself. I think I will get better once I step on the field again.

"Stop!" I forcefully yank my arm away from her grip, making her stumble. "I want to know what he has to say!" I raise my voice at my wife. What the fuck has gotten into me?

Am I an abusive husband? No, I have never laid a finger on her. But does what I'm doing count as abuse? My judgment is clouded and I don't know what to make of all of this.

"I don't know what's going on with you, but you need to get your shit together! I can't even recognize you anymore!" Knox snaps at me. I want to laugh at what he says. As if I can recognize myself!

And I can't recognize myself anymore either!" I yell in despair, looking at all of them, waiting to see if somebody has something to say to me.

When silence prevails, I turn and make my way upstairs. Sometimes, I find myself hoping to fall into a coma for the

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