He was sober when I got home late Saturday afternoon. He did drink Saturday night but it was more...mellow. Not just pounding it down.
The "fun" came Sunday morning. I was digging in our office closet where I keep my extra purses. The SU was in the shower. When I finally found the one I wanted, I yanked on it and an empty vodka bottle came tumbling out with it. I swear it was like there was suddenly a caption over my head and it read, "So, what are you going to do?"
My thoughts rewound to the woman caught in sin. Specifically, the part where Jesus did not require her to say she was sorry and wouldn't do it again or make her come up with some kind of promise or list of things she would do to atone. He just forgave her.
So I threw the bottle in the trash, didn't say a word, and went to church with my husband.