Trigger warning: this story deals with the subject of alcoholism. If you find this triggering, please don't read this story.

The candle flame danced gracefully above their dinner table, casting soft light on Sharon's face and adding a haunted dimension to her melancholic gaze. He had no idea what got her in this weird mood. Granted, he had seen her in a similar mood before, only a month and a half earlier, several moments before the talk he initiated about what she needed from him. But things seemed to improve since then and seeing her this way again was like a pinch in the heart.

He let his gaze caress her, focusing on the way she took in a deep breath and lowered her gaze to her plate. It was supposed to be another romantic date. The first one was successful. They went to 'Serve' and the food and ambience were divine, but the company was even better. Then they took a stroll along the beach and Andy worked up the courage to touch her hand, and then slowly laced his fingers with hers. She didn't object; in fact she smiled at him softly. She looked radiant that night when he walked her to her door of her building and they parted with a tight hug. He didn't kiss her then. His instincts told him that it was too early and he decided to put it off until their next date, in hopes that there will be one.

Following traditional dating rules, he waited three days before he asked her out on another date. He offered to have a dinner in his place on Friday and she agreed without a moment's hesitation. That day after work, Andy went to a gourmet food store and bought premium ingredients for the meal he intended to cook for her and artisan candles. Ever since he was a child, he enjoyed working in the kitchen, and cooking for a person he cared about so deeply enhanced his pleasure. He spent the previous evening cleaning his house until it was spotless and creating a playlist of romantic songs on his iPhone to play during their dinner.

Seeing Sharon not enjoying their dinner as much as he hoped she would was gnawing at his uplifted mood and deflated his enthusiasm.

He should have suspected that something was wrong from the moment she walked through his door. She was paler than usual, withdrawn, her gaze was worried and she kept chewing on her bottom lip. Maybe it was too early for a dinner at his place. Maybe she was worried that he expected to get her into bed. That would explain her nervousness. He wasn't sure why she thought he would try anything more than a kiss at this stage. He really wasn't that kind of man.

"Sharon," he said her name softly and she raised her gaze. He smiled at her softly. "Is my cooking that bad?" he joked.

"What? No… Uh, it's delicious, actually," she replied.

"You seem like you're suffering," he said, only half joking this time.

"No! I'm… just a bit… well, Andy, I'm…" she sighed and drew her bottom lip into her mouth. "I'm sorry, Andy." She looked like a chastised child and Andy found it adorable, albeit a bit concerning.

"I can tell that there's something on your mind," he decided not to let whatever it is go. If she was bothered by something, he wanted her to share it with him. That was the entire point of being in a relationship – sharing. "What is it?"

"I better not…" she argued, but the warm gaze in Andy's eyes made her change her mind. "It's just that case we had earlier this week," she started. "It made me think about sobriety." Andy looked at her, surprised by her words. He had not expected that particular subject to come up. Of course, he was proud of his sobriety, but he was not proud of being an alcoholic to begin with.

"Which aspect of sobriety are you concerned about?" he asked, trying to get a hint about her line of thought on the subject.

"We had that witness, Tate's sponsor, who told us he fell off the wagon," Sharon sighed. "And a few months ago, Jack showed up at my condo, drunk and Rusty had to deal with him." By the way her voice shook, Andy could tell she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. "Both of them were sober for two decades, and…"

"Starting a relationship with another addict terrifies you," Andy replied.

"Andy, I can't go through that again, ever."

"I understand," he sighed. "I really do. And I wish that there was something I could do to assure you, but slip ups happen. God knows that I worked very hard over the last 20 years to not slip up, and I am proud to say that so far, I haven't had one."

"I'm proud of you, Andy, and I trust you. And I'm sorry to bring this up in a date. I can tell how hard you worked to make this evening perfect and I'm so sorry for ruining it by bringing up this subject," Sharon said, her voice just a notch above a whine.

"No, it's actually good that you have, Sharon." Andy reached over the dinner table and took her hand. "We need to be honest with each other and discuss things that bother us, otherwise it's never going to work."

"You're right," she sighed and Andy smiled softly.

"I have an idea. If you're done with the main course, then maybe we can move to the living room for dessert and we'll talk openly about my addiction and my sobriety. How does that sound?" he offered.

"It sounds great, Andy," she replied softly. "Let me help you clear the table." She picked up her plate and cutlery as she got up, despite Andy's protests that she was his guest. After they cleared the dishes together, he shooed her to the living room while he prepared two plates with dessert and two cups of herbal tea, Sharon's favorite blend. He then carried it to the living room, where Sharon was standing next to his bookcase and leafing through his copy of 'Living Sober', one of the books that their rapist victim had in his personal effects. Of course, Tate's book was much cleaner and newer than Andy's. Over the years, Andy highlighted and bookmarked many pages and in a few occasions even wrote notes inside it. He didn't refer to the book very often nowadays, but he used to in the past.

"That's the first sobriety book I ever got," he said. Sharon closed the book and sighed. "It's also the best one I have. It's my go-to book." Sharon looked at him with a soft and sad expression as he placed the plate with the desserts and tea on the coffee table. She closed the book and returned it to the shelf. Andy walked over to her and took her hands in his. He noticed they were shaking. "Your hands are so small," he said affectionately. His words made Sharon's lips curve up in a smile, but it faltered quickly. "Come on," he said and led her to the couch. They sat down, side by side and Andy motioned towards the dessert. She leaned forward and grabbed one of the plates. He took the other and watched her as she took the first bite. She hummed against the spoon and he knew that she liked it. During their dinners they went to, he always noticed that dark chocolate ganache was her weakness. She couldn't resist it whatsoever. He was glad that the cake he made cheered her up a little bit. He watched her enjoying it as they silently ate their desserts. She seemed to be trapped in the moment and focused mainly on the cake. It was as if she wasn't really there with him. He knew it was a coping technique she used when she needed a moment. He's seen it before, but it never lasted as long as it did now. When she finally finished the cake, she placed the empty plate back on the tray and looked at him.

"How does it happen, Andy? How does someone slip after so many years of sobriety?" she asked, her voice sad again.

"Sharon, addiction is a disease. It's like cancer in remission. It can always come back and devour you," Andy explained, his voice low and soft. "When things get rough, an addict's natural impulse is to run away. Alcohol or drugs or gambling, whatever the addiction is, helps us escape."

"But why? I mean, after twenty years, you'd expect a person to know how to deal with his issues," Sharon exclaimed.

"Is it me we're talking about or Jack?"

"Both of you," she admitted and Andy sighed. "I can't stop thinking how it must have been the divorce that made him start drinking again and maybe if I hadn't divorced him, it wouldn't have happened and Rusty wouldn't have to deal with it again," her voice was tearful, even though Andy could tell she held the tears back.

"Sharon, it wasn't your fault. It makes me really sad that after spending so many years dealing with Jack's addictions, you still take the blame for his choice to drink," Andy took her hand again. "It's not my place to criticize another addict, but Sharon, I can tell you for sure, it is not your fault. If he felt bad about the divorce, he should have attended meetings, or met with a therapist, but he chose to avoid the issues that bothered him and take the easy path." He felt so sorry for her that she had to witness Jack drunk again, that Rusty had to deal with this situation too after all of Sharon's efforts to make him feel safe. The both of them have been let down so many times by unreliable people they loved. He hoped so much that he will never end up this way and disappoint his loved ones. That was why he saw a therapist once a week, and went to meetings regularly, and kept in touch with his sponsor. He felt Sharon's pinky caressing his sobriety ring and offered her a soft smile. "I want you to feel secure in our relationship, Sharon. I know your experience with addicts has been nothing but disastrous and so was Rusty's. I understand why you would be hesitant to involve another addict in your life, why you might have trust issues. I don't want it to happen with us, though."

"Me neither. I care about you so much. I really do," her voice was thick.

"I can't promise you I'll never relapse. The best way for me to stay sober is to take it one day at a time, but whatever happens, I want you to know it will never be your fault. Never. It will always be mine." She nodded to him in response and lowered her gaze again. He could tell by the way her breathing changed that she was slowly relaxing, maybe for the first time that evening, and it made him happy.

"I really like your smile," she said when she raised her eyes again. Andy didn't even realize he was smiling until she said that.

"Really? What do you like about it?" he teased, joyful that she was able to finally shake off the bad mood she was in.

"It's honest," she replied. "And it makes your eyes shine."

"I think that's the sweetest thing someone has ever said to me," Andy couldn't wipe off that smile even if he tried. They regarded each other wordlessly. "You know, I don't mean to be awkward, but I really want to kiss you, if that's okay." Sharon froze, her cheeks flushed quickly. "Too early?" Sharon shook her head. "So can I?" She nodded slowly, still frozen. "You know, we don't have to if you're not ready."

"Andy," she uttered his name softly.

"What?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Andy called out excitedly and she giggled softly before he leaned down and planted a tentative kiss on her lips. The mere touch of her lips against his sent a tingly sensation all the way down his spine and limbs. He could feel her hand landing softly on his cheek as she drew his bottom lip into the furnace of her mouth, gently sucking on it. Her lips curved upwards against his own and a subdued sigh crossed the threshold of her mouth and moved into his. "What?" he drew back just enough so he could speak and still feel the closeness of her lips to his.

"It feels so good, being kissed," her voice was breathy. Andy didn't need any further encouragement. He reclaimed his lips for a slow, lingering kiss that left them both breathless when they finally drew apart. Sharon rested her head on his shoulder and he wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the weight of her body against his own.

"You can stay the night, if you want," he said, noticing the way her eyes fell shut and the yawn that escaped her mouth. Sharon raised her head from his shoulder.

"It's too early for me," she replied, her tone apologetic.

"No pressure. We'll take it one day at a time, as we say in AA," Andy said. This made Sharon smiled softly.

"Oh, so that's how it works?" she asked teasingly.

"It works if you work it," Andy quipped. Sharon buried her face in her palms and giggled before she got up of the couch and started making her way towards the door. Andy followed her and watched her as she put on her jacket and grabbed her purse from the hall table.

"Thank you for this amazing dinner, Andy. The food was divine. And thank you for the conversation. I'm glad you're in a good place and I'm so proud of you," she said as she opened the door. Andy gave her a quick nod before he drew her to his lips again.

"Drive safely, Sharon, and call or text me to let me know you got home alright," he said when they pulled away.

"I will," she promised. Andy leaned down to kiss her again and she giggled and tried to evade him. "At this rate, I'll never get home tonight."

"What can I do? I'm an addict and your lips are intoxicating," Andy joked.

"You gotta stop making all these addicts jokes! It's not funny!" she playfully swatted his chest, her tone amused.

"Just one last kiss?" Andy looked at her with a begging puppy eyes.

"Just a tiny one," Sharon relented and planted a quick peck on his lips and then drew away with a smile. "Goodnight, Andy."

"Goodnight, beautiful." His eyes followed her as she walked to her car, unlocked it and went into the driver's seat. She waved at him just before she drove away from there and he closed the door with a huge excited smile on his face. When Sharon first walked through his door that evening, he was sure the evening was doomed to fail, a feeling that intensified as the evening progressed. The moment he decided to have an honest conversation about what was troubling her, the evening became pleasant and full of possibilities. It sounded a lot like sobriety, he realized; full of possibilities. There was still a way ahead of them, and a relationship to establish and cultivate, but that was too far ahead. For now, they will take it one day at a time.

THE END

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