— Mrs. Cârstea, there was a strong sedative in that water. Not in a lethal amount, but enough to make you fall asleep quickly and become dependent without realizing it.
I felt my stomach tighten. For six years, I had been drinking that water, night after night. Six years during which I fell asleep early, without dreams, always waking up tired, but convinced it was just my age.
— What happens if I stop drinking? I asked, trembling.
— You will be more agitated for a while. Maybe insomnia. But your body will recover.
I left the clinic with weak knees. In the car, I burst into tears. Everything I had believed was love now seemed like a setup. I thought of all the nights when he whispered to me softly that he couldn’t sleep without me, of all the caresses that now seemed false.
The next night, I left the glass untouched on the nightstand.
Edi looked at me for a long time.
— You’re not drinking, my love?
— No, I said, smiling slightly. I feel good this way.
His smile tightened a little, but he said nothing. Instead, he went to the bathroom and pretended to brush his teeth longer than usual.
In the days that followed, I began to notice details I had previously ignored. His laptop was always closed when I entered the room. His phone, always face down. He received envelopes with no return address.
One morning, I found a debt paper for 120,000 lei, signed by him. I knew nothing about debts. When I asked him, he said it was an investment “for our future.”
I fell silent. But within me, a determination was being born.
I began to gather evidence: bills, messages, recordings. Everything. Then, I contacted a discreet lawyer, a former colleague of my ex-husband. He simply told me:
— Ma’am, this man is controlling your life. He puts you to sleep so you won’t ask anything.
One evening, I prepared the glass of water myself. With honey, chamomile, and nothing else. I brought it to him with a smile.
— You drink first, Edi. You need it more than I do.
He laughed. But the moment he brought the glass to his lips, his hand stopped. He looked at me intently, with a cold gaze I had never seen before.
— What do you mean by that, Lilia?
— That I know.
For a moment, I thought he would hit me. But instead, he slammed the glass down and walked out the door.
He never came back.
A few days later, the lawyer called me: he had been caught trying to withdraw money from a joint account using a forged power of attorney. The police detained him.
I felt a strange mix of shame and relief. I was ashamed that I could love so blindly, but I was grateful to still be alive.
Today, at almost sixty, I still drink warm water with honey and chamomile before bed. But I do it alone. I do it for myself.
For the first time in a long time, I sleep peacefully — not because someone else tells me I have to, but because I know I had the courage to wake up.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher do not assume responsibility for the accuracy of events or for how characters are portrayed and are not liable for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed belong to the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
