Hush.

I watched Billie from across the table, his hand shaking as he reached out to take his glass of water. Hand still trembling, he took a sip, the water sloshing around inside the glass.

“Billie,” I said quietly, drawing his attention. His green eyes flicked up to meet my blue ones and, controlling his actions, he placed the glass back down.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, picking up a fork and stabbing it into his bowl of pasta.

A relapse into his old ways of heavy drinking yesterday caused the tremors of today. He had been as sick as a dog this morning and, thanks to my forgiving nature, I had helped nurse him into a calmer, more stable state.

“Billie.” I repeated, trying to get him to meet my gaze. He avoided my eyes though, as he raised his head.

“Yes, Rianna?” He asked, his voice almost inaudible. His change in emotional state had me worrying the most. His usual demanding, fiery tempered nature didn't become meek or complacent - ever. It only showed how much he had cracked, and he wasn't even willing to lighten it with a witty line.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

Bille Joe pursed his lips, stirring his pasta yet again and taking a bite to prolong his answer.

Five minutes passed, and not a word had spilled out of his mouth.

“It's nothing.” He finally said, pushing his chair out from the table and taking his unfinished meal to the kitchen, washing up. I returned to my meal, my stomach curling and twisting itself into a knot. Finding myself feeling uneasy, I too left some of the pasta in the bowl and headed to the kitchen. As if knowing I would follow him, Billie Joe had left the sink full. I scraped the pasta into the bin and plonked my utensils and bowl into the steaming water to let the remaining cheese become loose. While it did so, I transferred the leftover pasta and meat into snap lock containers and placed them into the fridge, ready to be eaten at a later date. I completed the dishes and left them on the rack to dry, walking towards the bedroom where I could hear Billie Joe getting ready to retire for the night.

I leaned against the open door frame and crossed my arms, looking at my husband with an eyebrow arched. He finally met my eyes, patting the bed beside him and flicking the cover back slightly. I sighed, picking up my pyjamas and going to the bathroom to brush my teeth and change. I tied my blonde hair into a braid, in which it hung slightly to the left side, and returned to the bedroom, crawling under the covers.

I took Billie's hand and massaged his knuckles, giving him a smile as I did so.

“Willing to share now?”

“Maybe later.” He replied, leaning in and giving me a kiss on my temple. “I need my beauty sleep.”

“It's just past nine thirty. I don't know why we're in bed.”

“Hibernation, then. Or maybe it was a sign.” Billie raised an eyebrow, biting his lower lip.

“Not tonight.”

“Fine.”

“But I do want the truth - tonight.”

Billie only chuckled under his breath, his eyes darting up to meet mine from where they had rested on the duvet. He shook his head slowly. “I said not tonight, Rianna.” He let go of my hand and rolled over, mumbling goodnight.

I got out of bed, my bare feet padding on the carpet. Picking up the telephone, I looked through the scrawled numbers on the post - it note stuck next to the receiver. Finding the all too familiar name, I punched in the number.

“Hello?” The reply was almost immediate.

“Can you please come over here and talk to Billie? It’s urgent.”