Page 37 of Thin Ice

Noah and I both echo that we understand. He asks us if we need anything before we officially begin our first exercise, which he calls Soul-Gazing. In any other situation, I’d probably laugh, especially when Noah’s lip twitches at the name, but we both hold it together and tell Beck we’re ready to start.

“This exercise is to set a foundation for the weekend. I’ve looked over your initial intake forms and assessed each of your goals. This exercise, while it can seem silly, is a good place to start in reconnecting and getting on the same page.”

“I want you both to sit on the edges of your seats so that your knees are touching. Keep your hands to yourselves for now and your eyes focused on each other. If it feels uncomfortable, lean into it.”

Noah puffs out a breath. This is going to be difficult for him, not only because he’s not good at feelings but also because he isn’t good at sitting still or silent.

“We can do this,” I tell him calmly.

Noah breathes again and affirms my words. “We can.” He shifts in his chair, and I do the same until our knees are touching. The contact, though little, is nice to have. I itch to reach forward and grab his hands, but I do what Beck says and place them on my thighs. Noah does the same.

“Good,” Beck chimes. “We’re going to start with five minutes of breathing. Your task is to breathe together in sync without using words and maintaining eye contact.”

Noah’s jaw clenches like he wants to say something. Knowing him, it’s probably along the lines of How is this going to help with anything? but he keeps it in, blowing out another breath.

Beck tells us he’s starting his timer, but his focus remains on us. I don’t need to see him to feel its intensity. I do my best to ignore that he’s watching us and blow out my own breath, smiling softly at Noah.

We’re here. We’re doing this. He’s not getting up and running—at least, not yet.

Noah exhales, and despite our gazes being locked, I note his diaphragm moving downward. I inhale in a short breath and then out in an attempt to match his, but he does a quicker breath to try to match me, throwing us off completely.

Beck remains silent as Noah and I continue to breathe. We go on for what feels like a minute or more, yet our breaths aren’t matching. I breathe in deeper, exaggerating it to try to get Noah to follow me, but then he takes a shorter breath. Agitation jerks up my spine, and before I know what’s happening, the bridge of my nose is stinging. I blink my eyes rapidly to keep any tears from coming, and Noah breaks the silence we were meant to sustain.

“Sunshine,” he mutters. “What is it?”

“I’m fine, keep going.”

He holds his breath for a moment but does as I ask. His features are full of concern, and it throws me off, so when I try to inhale, the breath is shaky. The urge to give up overtakes me. Noah and I can’t even breathe together, and everything in me finds that embarrassing. Especially because this should be easy, shouldn’t it?

“May I help?” Beck asks.

I startle, having briefly forgotten he was there. I don’t know what he’s going to do to help, but my answer slips out quietly, “Yes, please.”

“Noah, is that good with you?” he asks.

“Alright.” My husband’s response is unsure, but I’m happy he said yes, too.

“Keep your eyes on each other.” Beck scoots forward, and a second later, his warm breath skitters across my skin near my ear. “Do I have permission to help you find your breath? This will require me to touch you.”

I attempt to ask for permission from Noah through my eyes. I know technically I don’t need it—we both knew this retreat wouldn’t be completely hands-off unless we said no—but this was before we knew his ex-not-ex would be our mentor. Before I knew they once had a safe word with each other.

“It’s nothing sexual,” Beck says. “I just find this works when my couples are struggling. I will help Noah, too, if he needs it,” he adds.

I expect Noah to balk, but he nods, his eyes warm instead of cold or angry. I didn’t think he’d be so open to this, but once again, I appreciate he’s trying and going to allow Beck to do his job.

“Okay.” I exhale. “I could use the help.”

Beck shifts closer, the warmth of his large body transferring to mine. “Both of you are trying too hard to match, like you’re racing to see who can get synced up first. This isn’t about winning; it’s about finishing together.”

The urge to say something juvenile like That’s what she said pops up, and by the gleam in Noah’s eyes, he had the same thought. Glad to know we’re still at least on the same page with our humor.

I maintain my focus on Noah, and Beck speaks again. “Ground into your body.” His hand touches my shoulder, and at first, I stiffen.

Noah’s eyes remain steady on mine, not reacting to Beck touching me. We’re not supposed to use words, but a moment later, Noah mouths, You’ve got this.

I relax into Beck’s touch, his warm hand comforting while he waits for me to adjust. It reminds me of him steadying me yesterday after we ran into each other. I relax further, remembering that, before this morning, I’d decided that this man was my friend. Now, he’s a friend and mentor, and I want his help. No, I need it.

I fight the desire to close my eyes, putting more weight into my chair.