The Choice

usually fell asleep on the couch.
“at’s not all,” she said. She was listing all the evidence. “He
breaks dishes because he’s drunk. He comes home late. He forgets
things that I tell him. He’s driving drunk. He’s going to get in an
accident. How can I trust him to drive the kids?”
As Ling spoke, Jun seemed to disappear. His eyes dropped to his
lap. He looked hurt, reserved, ashamed—and angry, but his hostility
was directed inward. I asked Jun for his perspective on their daily life.
“I’m always responsible with the kids,” he said. “She has no right to
accuse me of putting them in danger.”
“What about your relationship with Ling? How do you see your
marriage working?”
He shrugged. “I’m here,” he said.
“I notice a big space between you on the couch. Is that an accurate
indication of a big gulf between you?”
Ling gripped her purse.
“It’s accurate,” Jun said.
“It’s because he drinks!” Ling interjected. “at’s what’s making
this distance.”
“It sounds like there’s a lot of anger there pushing you apart.”
Ling looked quickly at her husband before nodding.
I see a lot of couples locked in the same dance. She nags, he drinks.
He drinks, she nags. at’s the choreography they’ve chosen. But what
if one of them changes the steps? “I wonder,” I began. “I wonder if
your marriage would survive if Jun stopped drinking.”
Jun’s jaw clenched. Ling loosened her hold on her purse. “Exactly,”
she said. “This is what needs to happen.”
“What would really happen if Jun stopped drinking?” I asked.
I told them about another couple I know. e husband was also a
drinker. One day, he’d had enough. He didn’t want to drink anymore.
He wanted to get help. He decided that rehab was the best option, and