Its been a week since you last drank, but it feels like years laying in a bleak hospital bed; being administered intravenous fluids whilst your husband sits beside your bed, hand holding your own shaking one as he rubs circles on your palm with his thumb.

His face is serious, eyes focused as he occasionally glances from the monitors down to you. The night you were admitted, was the worst he had ever seen you. Delirious, hallucinating, paranoid, aggressive.

He sighs, but doesn't speak.