OK, so a few days ago, hubby got a call about a job. I went to the rehab/shelter and told him about it. He called the guy, and he got the job. So I brought him home.
When we got home, we talked. I told him that I found the charge on his bank statement that indicated he had relapse earlier than the time I caught him. He confessed. I asked him if it was the day I told him I could smell it on his breath. He said yes. I reminded him that lying to me is a waste of time, because I always find out the truth. ALWAYS.
I told him that I understand that he has a disease, and that I am not going to just throw him out every time he slips up. BUT, I also told him that I demand honesty from him. When he wants a drink, he is going to tell me, and we are going to get him in touch with his support group. If he does drink, then he is going to tell me. Now if he can't manage this, then there will really not be any reason to carry on with the marriage.
He asked me as he got into the car at the shelter, "So do you trust me?"
"No," I said. "I can't trust you. You've shown me I can't. At least not when it comes to alcohol."
He was quiet, and then nodded. "But you love me?"
"Yes. If I didn't, I would have filed for separation when I put you in the shelter in April. I wish I didn't love you... it would make things easier."
He was quiet again for a long time, and then reached out and patted my knee. "I love you, too. I always have. I'm so sorry for the hell I've put you through."
I put my hand on his hand. "We all have a bottomless supply of 'sorries'. You can say it for the rest of your life, but I need to see action. I need to see that you care enough about me and your son to work on this with me. Our baby needs a daddy."
"OK....," he said.
"A sober daddy. He'll have the genetic predisposition toward alcoholism, so we need to be extra careful."
"OK."
And that's where we are at, now. He's been working the last few days, and I see a great change in him already. Now we'll see if he can stick with it.