When we discovered a shared love for Barry Manilow and vodka on our first date, I knew Chris was the one. Our courtship was fuelled by post-work rieslings, boozy beach getaways, splashing each other a glass while making dinner.

We were endlessly drunk on each other and endlessly actually drunk. Friday nights meant pinball and bourbon, Saturday was about cocktails. Sunday, we’d get on the sauce after lunch. Holidays? Find us a tropical swim-up bar and a happy hour and extra points for a souvenir swizzle stick.

Alcohol went from something that brought us together to something that was dividing us.Credit: Getty

Alcohol was the fabulous third wheel in our marriage. Then Chris stopped drinking.

Long story short, but a year or two back he realised booze was creating not just hangovers but fights over stupid things, feelings of isolation, slow treacly chaos. And he thought he might die.

People like to believe a drinking problem looks like a need to drink daily. The ducking into bars for just one, the stashed bottle of mouthwash. For Chris, it came........

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