Page 44 of Rome
“I won’t,” I assured her.
“She said you can come for dinner tomorrow night. I have a shift at the hospital tomorrow, so I won’t be back until late. It will just be the three of you.”
I closed my eyes in relief, the idea of a family dinner had to mean we were moving in the right direction. “Let her know I’ll be home by five.” Amelia nodded, then went back to scrolling on her phone.
I left a few minutes later, feeling better than I had in days.
Chapter 12
Abby
I dropped Ethan off at school Thursday morning, giving Molly a hesitant wave through the windshield. She was trying to corral the kids who were being dropped off but stopped to offer me a reassuring smile and a wave of her own.
She had called and texted several times over the last few days, as had Jagger. I’d responded to a couple of her texts, assuring her that Ethan wasn’t aware of any problems, and that I was doing OK. I hadn’t responded to Jagger yet though. My feelings about him were complicated. He’d been like a brother to me for ten years, treating me like a little sister even before Caleb and I got together. I understood why he hadn’t said anything when he’d picked up Ethan on Sunday, but it still hurt, and I wasn’t quite ready to deal with it yet.
I drove to the address Caleb had sent me, thinking back to last night. I’d had the bright idea to invite him to eat with us. Caleb had normally been home for dinner before all this shit had happened, and I knew that Ethan needed to have that bit of normalcy. So, I’d pulled on my big girl panties and sat through an excruciatingly uncomfortable meal, trying to pretend for my son’s sake that I didn’t want to stab his father with a fork and tell him to get the fuck out.
Caleb hadn’t done anything wrong last night, but just the sight of him made me want to scream. At least seeing him this morning for counseling wouldn’t be quite as bad. I wouldn’t have to pretend that I was fine, or that I didn’t want to rage at him for destroying our family.
I pulled into the parking lot about ten minutes before nine. Caleb’s bike was already there, I was surprised to see. He usually didn’t run late for things, but he was rarely early for anything either.
I made my way into the building to find him waiting for me in the lobby. We greeted each other awkwardly – well, it felt awkward to me anyway. He guided me to an office suite at the end of the first-floor hallway, holding the door open for me as I walked inside. The plaque next to the door listed the names of three therapists who apparently all shared the space.
Caleb walked up to the front desk to sign us in, confirming with the receptionist that he had filled out all the new client forms online. There was an uncomfortable silence between us as we sat in the waiting area. Luckily, we were called back a few minutes later and were led to a decent-sized room where our therapist was waiting for us.
The room was furnished with a small leather couch along the back wall, with upholstered chairs placed on either side to form a U-shape. A low coffee table in the middle had a glass jar with a softly scented candle burning in it, a box of tissues, and a small grouping of potted plants, along with two unopened bottles of water. There were lamps on the two side tables, which provided the lighting for the room. I glanced up and noticed that the overhead lights were turned off, presumably to give the room a warmer, cozier vibe than the harsh lighting would have provided.
The therapist, a redhead who was probably in her mid-forties, was waiting behind a desk on the opposite wall. As she pushed away from the desk, I realized she was in a wheelchair.
She rolled forward, shaking our hands as she introduced herself.
“I’m Kim Frazier,” she said with a welcoming smile. “It’s very nice to meet you both. Why don’t you take a seat, and we’ll get started.”
I sat on one end of the couch, and Caleb sat on the other. Kim waited until we were seated before positioning her chair on the other side of the coffee table so she could face us.
“OK, today’s session will be spent with me getting to know you, for the most part. Finding out who you are as a couple, who you are individually, and what you hope to achieve through counseling.” Her voice was warm and sincere, and she maintained eye contact with us both as she spoke. “I don’t subscribe to any one specific counseling methodology. I find that a mixture of different therapy techniques works best for many couples.”
“Some of the questions I ask during our sessions will be painful or even seem intrusive, and I’ll apologize in advance for that. Even though it may be incredibly difficult at times, I need you both to be as honest and as forthright as you can be. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the pertinent facts.”
We both nodded in agreement, and she smiled. She spent a few minutes asking how long we’d been together, what we did for a living, and how old Ethan was. I think she was surprised when she learned that I was due in two weeks, but she hid it well.
“When Rome and I spoke on the phone, he shared that the two of you were seeking counseling because he’d been unfaithful, that it was a one-night stand that came about as a result of him drinking heavily that night. He shared that your marriage was strong and solid, prior to this incident. He also shared that he would like to address his drinking, and work toward addiction recovery.”
Her voice was very calming as she addressed us, and I wondered if that had been part of her training. “Now, that’s a very basic overview of the situation. There may be other factors at play – other issues within the relationship – but does that sound like an accurate representation of the immediate problem, Abby?”
“Yes,” I croaked, clearing my throat as my voice cracked. Kim gestured to the water bottles, and I picked one up and opened it, sipping it gratefully.
“The addiction recovery process will be separate from the marriage counseling, although obviously there will be quite a bit of overlap. Most of the addiction recovery therapy will involve one-on-one sessions with Rome.” She looked at him, as if making sure he was in agreement.
“Sounds good,” he said, nodding.
“Now, many times I find that the betrayed partner in a relationship will also benefit from individual sessions, especially when we are trying to work through emotions that you might not feel comfortable in discussing in front of your partner just yet. So, Abby, I would like you to consider whether you would like to schedule individual sessions as well.”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “I am definitely interested in individual sessions.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Now, I want to assure you both that what you discuss in your individual sessions is confidential and will not be shared with the other partner, unless you give me permission to do so.”
Again, Caleb and I nodded.
