“Trust me, if someone wants to harm you in the water, it won’t matter if you can swim—they’ll find a way.”
She shivered a bit, understanding that in my world, danger lurked in every corner, including beneath the surface of the water.
“Still, wouldn’t it be nice to know?” she persisted.
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Why is that? Why not let me show you something basic?” she asked.
I didn’t immediately respond, and Alison’s curiosity prompted her to lean forward, studying me intently.
“Is it something beyond your inability to swim that makes you fear the water?”
“I don’t have a problem taking a shower,” I reminded her.
“Yes, but maybe it’s the depth, the feeling of being surrounded,” she theorized. “Perhaps it reminds you of something, a suffocating experience.”
“Are you my therapist now?”
“Seriously, can we at least try?” she pleaded.
“No,” I replied firmly.
“Why not?”
“I just explained why.”
“But it could be helpful!”
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Ah, so you do admit you’re my doggy?” she countered with a teasing smile, earning a glare from me.
“Okay, blue room, now,” I ordered, rising from my chair.
“Only after we’ve swum.”
“You don’t get to make demands like that!” I exclaimed.
“Then I’m not moving.” She placed her cup down, crossed her arms, and stood her ground. I knew I had to remind Alison that playing my wife didn't elevate her to my equal. With that in mind, I reached for her, effortlessly lifting her from the chair, and hoisted her over my shoulder.
“No, just let me help!”
“Why would you want to?” I questioned as I left the kitchen.
“To make amends!”
I halted in my tracks. “To make amends?”
“Don’t you think I feel guilty?”
“You’re incapable of feeling guilt.”
“That’s not true! I was just... selfish,” she sighed. “I just wanted...”
She trailed off, and I grew curious about what she intended to say. “Wanted what?” I prodded.
“It doesn’t matter. Just let me make things a little better. I only have two days left with you. Why not spend it doing something more productive?”