I think I might have gotten my suspicions that he wasn't really in recovery validated the day he got mad at me and said "So before you get up on that high horse of yours, maybe you should consider this: Why did your husband feel a need to drink? Do you think that maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with your complete and utter failure to be an even passable excuse for a wife?"
Um... I'm on a horse. And I'm fine. And the horse isn't high. You are.