Page 70 of Resisting the Fall

He made a note of that.

The rest of the session continued on in a similar fashion, with Ben and me alternating answering questions. But where I continued to keep mine as non-descriptive as possible, Ben slipped in an occasional response clearly meant to rattle me. Like when Mr. Hughes asked about the activity we’d most enjoyed taking part in together, he’d first said… Well, it didn’t matter what he’d first answered. That’s the last place I needed my mind to go again. But then, second, he’d said watching me play my violin. He got another text for both answers.

Ben: Why are you so desperate for me to lie to our therapist? Is that something I need to bring up with him?

Maven:

After another set of uncomfortable questions regarding where things began to seem hard in our relationship, Mr. Hughes glanced at his watch, and my gaze shifted to the clock on the corner of my laptop screen. Thank heavens! We were done!

“Since we are about out of time,” Mr. Hughes said, “I want to leave you both with a homework assignment. We won’t necessarily discuss our answers next week, but I think it’s important preparation for coming to our next session with an open mind. So I want you to spend this week flipping your current narrative—of what went wrong between you—on its head by asking yourself: What would the other person say as to why the marriage didn’t work out?”

Homework assignment: complete. I’d spent way too long thinking about what had gone wrong. My narrative: Ben loved Autumn Ridge and the life he hoped to create there more than anything. Even more than he’d loved me. His narrative: I loved my music more than him. Which wasn’t true. He just hadn’t given me the chance to prove it.

The moment we were off the video call, my phone dinged with a new text message.

Ben: Based on the call, should I reschedule that appointment with the mortician?

Maven: After some of those answers? Absolutely.

Ben: I thought that might be the case.

Despite myself, I smiled.

Ben: Which brings me to my next question: when exactly are you planning to return to Autumn Ridge?

Ben: Only asking for safety reasons.

Ben: Though we should also plan our next shared weekly experience.

Dropping onto the bed, I typed out a quick response.

Maven: I was thinking you should come to New York. Since I went to you last time.

Ben: Can’t.

Ben: Between work and the fall festival, I’m slammed. Plus the barn raising is this weekend.

Ben: You should come.

Ben: There will be opportunities to drop things on my head. Like in that movie you like. The one with the brothers.

I knew he remembered the barn scene! Either that or he’d looked it up since I’d mentioned it.

Me: If you think you’re getting out of watching Seven Brides for Seven Brothers by just casually dropping that, you’re not.

Ben: I wouldn’t dream of it.

Ben: In fact, if you come back Friday, we could watch it after the homecoming game in preparation.

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard on the screen, a stupid grin on my face. But there was an unsettling feeling inside me that made me pause. It had started off like a faint whisper but was growing impossible to ignore. I was on dangerous ground. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to have a full-on Ben relapse and get hurt all over again.

There was no point in spending more time with Ben than was court mandated. Sure, my pride might take a slight hit at not being able to convince Ben to transfer the case to New York, but I was now confident he had no intention of changing his mind. And, honestly, like Ben had said, it would be foolish to not see it through at this point. In just over three weeks, Judge Rost would issue our divorce decree.

So it was time to make a new plan. One that didn’t start with me running back to Autumn Ridge to see Ben orchestrate the community barn raising. In fact, it was a good thing I wouldn’t be there for any part of the fall festival. I didn’t need horse-drawn hayrides and pumpkin patches and getting lost in his family’s straw maze together. My reasoning skills were clouded enough as it was.

Maven: Sorry. I have something on Saturday.

Technically, the only thing I had on Saturday was a courtesy invite from Cassandra to an art exhibit if I was still in town. I hadn’t even committed to it yet, but I should before a moment of weakness sent me back to Autumn Ridge. And to Ben.