Only Love Remains - Paul McCartney Fanfiction

Chapter 3 - Breaking Away

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I wasn't the kind of wife that tried to stop my husband from having a little fun, and I had been fine with him "experimenting" in the past with all kinds of things, but we agreed on one thing: no drugs in the house.

When we were at parties or when he was at a friend's, I was fine with him doing drugs, as long as he never went too far and didn't become dependent on them. Sometimes I hated how he would act when he was high, he would get a bit cocky and arrogant and would become too much of a showoff. He thought it was a lot of fun, but I would try to stay away when he was smoking weed or taking acid or something else.

You could imagine how livid I was when I found a baggie of marijuana stuffed in a bookshelf, alongside another baggie of tablets which I suspected to be LSD. They were his two drug loves. He told me he would only ever use it socially and that he would never bring it home.

I should have gotten suspicious as soon as I noticed an odd smell on a few of his shirts when I was doing the laundry. Weed had a distinct smell. It wasn't very pleasant, I always made Paul take showers as soon as we got home after parties because he would reek of weed.

I hid the drugs in a different spot so I could confront him about it later. If he thought he could get away with it and that I wasn't smart enough to catch him, he was in for one big surprise. I don't even know where he got them from.

The day after I found it, I noticed that Paul seemed rather stressed and worried. He seemed to get very nervous when I was near and I think he had figured out I had found the drugs. We didn't say anything about it, but we both knew what happened.

I just couldn't believe he had done this. Not only did it hurt me, but it hurt the trust we had. When we made promises to each other, they usually were fulfilled.

"I promise you, darling, when I'm at home, I only need you. You won't ever see me doing drugs alone, it's just a social thing y'know. Don't worry, I wouldn't put that kind of stress on you." That's what Paul told me when we had moved in together.

He had actually done a good job of sticking to that until now. We had never gotten in a fight because of it and he was always sober at home unless he was coming back home from a night out. That's how I liked it. I just wanted Paul without any of the alterations in his mind. He was a sweet man and it was all I really needed to have.

I had come across drugs a lot in the industry. It only took a few months for me to encounter it. I had been offered drugs many times, but I had always been too scared to try them and still never have. Paul respected it, he didn't try to force it onto me and I was grateful for that because I had met many people who are the opposite of that and would keep bugging me about it.

It was early in the morning, we were peacefully sleeping in bed together, and I was half awake. Paul was too, I could tell. I thought he was just having some problems sleeping until he suddenly got up while trying not to disturb me.

He crept out of the room and it all seemed a bit fishy to me. I didn't like how secretive he seemed to be. If he was going for the bathroom, he would usually just get up and walk normally, but he was trying to be very sneaky this time.

I got up a little bit after him and crept to the room that had the light on, making sure I wasn't making too much sound as I walked. Since I knew this house very well now, I avoided certain spots as I knew where the floor would creak. Peeping through the small gap in the door, I saw Paul looking through the very bookshelf I had found his reefer and acid.

"Shit," Paul cursed under his breath, looking worried as he went through the bookshelf. "C'mon, c'mon!"

I carefully grabbed the baggies from where I hid them and opened the door slowly so he wouldn't notice me yet. After standing there for a few seconds while I watched him search, I finally spoke.