I Loved You Even You Left

Drowning In Silence

It started quietly, so quietly that I didn't notice the cracks opening up until they became impossible to ignore. Liam's late nights became a pattern, his excuses growing thinner with each day.

It began with the occasional text: Running late, don't wait up. Then it was silence-no text, no explanation, just the sound of his key in the lock hours after midnight.

The first time I smelt alcohol on him, I said nothing. I thought it was just one occasion; a drink after work to shake off the stress at work. However, after the smell became as routine as the ticking of the wall clock, I realized it was more than that.

---

One night, I awoke to hear the front door creaking open. I sat straight up in bed and looked over at the alarm clock on the bedside table: 2:47 a.m. My heart sank. He hadn't told me he'd be late-again.

I put on my robe and headed to the living room. There he was, slumped over on the couch, his head back, his tie crooked and his shirt wrinkled, with the faint smell of whiskey drifting through the air.

"Liam," I snapped.

He groaned, one eye flicking open to look at me. "Ellie, get back to bed.

"It's almost three in the morning," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "And you're drunk. Again."

"So what?" he slurred, his words slowed down and deliberate. "I had a rough day."

"Every day is a rough day for you lately," I said, my voice shaking. "But this? Coming home like this? This isn't you, Liam."

He sat up, his movements slow, and reached up to rub at his hair. "Perhaps you don't know me as well as you believe you do."

The blow of the words struck hard on me, leaving me stunned. "Don't do that," I said, my voice softer now. "Don't push me away."

"I'm not pushing you away," he bit out at me, the tone that much sharper. "I'm just trying to deal with things my own way.

"And your way is to drink yourself into oblivion?" I shot back, the frustration I've been bottling up for so long finally spilling over.

He laughed, his voice bitter, hollow. "Yeah, because I've got it all figured out, right? The perfect life, the perfect job, the perfect relationship."

His words were laced with sarcasm, and they cut deeper than he probably realized.

"Liam, stop," I said, trying to steady my voice. "This isn't about perfection. This is about us-about what's happening to us."

"What's happening to us?" he repeated, his voice rising. "You want to know what's happening, Ellie? Life is happening. Stress, pressure, all of it. And you-"

He stopped himself, but it was too late.

"And me what?" I pressed, my heart pounding.

"Forget it," he muttered, standing up unsteadily.

No, Liam," I said, blocking his path. "Say it. Whatever it is, just say it."

He looked at me then, his eyes bloodshot and filled with something I couldn't quite place-anger, sadness, guilt. "You wouldn't understand," he said finally.