Without him home, there was less turmoil, less anger. But now, looking at a drunk Joseph, she felt something entirely different. She felt a pang of tenderness, a surge of worry, and an instinctive desire to care for him. The difference between loving someone and not loving them was staggering. For a moment, Vivica felt like a complete hypocrite.
Then again, a drunk Joseph wasn't a handful. He slept peacefully, only occasionally frowning or turning his head before falling still again. It was a testament to how a man’s character and upbringing could be worlds apart, and how that dictated his wife’s response.
Vivica stood by the sofa, openly staring at her husband for a long moment as a whirlwind of thoughts raced through her mind. She finally snapped back to reality when Joseph frowned and shifted again.
She moved closer and gently shook his shoulder. “Joseph?”
No response.
“Joseph... do you want to get changed and sleep in the bed?”
She knew he was a bit of a germaphobe and would always change into clean loungewear before sitting on the sofa or the bed after coming home. But today was different. He was a grown man, not a three-year-old like Chaim who could be carried to the bath. He would just have to make do and sleep here.
Still, she called his name a few more times, but he didn't stir. Vivica frowned, a troubled expression on her face.
After a moment's hesitation, she tentatively reached out to help him undress. The jacket was easy enough; she pulled one sleeve off, rolled him over slightly, and then worked on the other.
Completely focused on her task, Vivica failed to notice that the man she had just pushed over had cracked his eyes open, a faint smile playing on his lips. As soon as she let go, he slumped back against the sofa, his face once again the picture of a deeply sleeping drunkard.
With his jacket off, Vivica’s hands moved to his shirt, her fingers working on the buttons. Leaning over him was straining her back, so she glanced at his face, saw he was still out cold, and decided to take a chance. She lifted one leg and straddled his hips, hovering over him. It made unbuttoning his shirt much faster.

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