Jan. 26, 2018 – Mr. Azimi had texted her just that morning: “These next few months will probably be difficult because I know you’re sick. Everything is going to work out and we’re going to have a good future.” By nightfall that day, she would be frantic, calling her husband 37 times with no response. A strange car would pull up to the house as midnight approached. Police detectives. “It can’t be him!” she shouted. Some addicts die in plain view, their years of drug use ravaging their bodies and upending their lives, like a long siege. Mr. Azimi’s addiction was more like a sleeper cell. It took seed as a teenager, and those around him sought to stomp it dead, but it loomed, largely dormant. It hid behind the broad smile he flashed for photographs, the ones of the family man with the house and the yard. “I believed he was sober for the vast majority of our marriage,” Ms. Azimi said. “I never saw drug paraphernalia. I don’t even know what heroin looks like.” He shared his past addiction sparingly to new friends, telling them only some of his troubles as a teenager in Bedford, N.Y., when he began drinking and using drugs.
Full Story @ NYTimes.com
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