Page 68 of Shame

“That's not contact with her! I didn't speak to her.” My heart is pounding as I desperately try to fix this. “She called and left a message for me at work, the morning after you found out. When I went into the office, Cameron gave me a message that she had called my office, and that was unacceptable. So I sent her that email—that single email—and then I blocked her. She can't respond to that message and you can see, there is no response.”

“But you lied to me, Luke. I asked you if you hadany contact.”

“I didn't have any contact with her.”

Grace jumps up. “You emailed her. And more to the point, you should have told me she called you. You don't get to keep secrets from me, even if you don't think they're secrets. I need you to be transparent with me on my terms, using the meaning of words as I understand them. Not your convenient-for-you definitions. I don't think we are at a place where you can be that callous or thoughtless about how I might feel.”

“That was months ago. I haven’t had any contact with her since that point. My phone is yours to look at, my computer is yours to prowl through. You’re mad at me right now about something I did in the past. That’s fine. But I’m not doing it now, so you’re mad at Past Luke, not Present Luke. I’ll do my best not to get defensive, but—”

She cuts me off. “But it’s not you who I’m mad at?”

“Exactly!” I stand, too. “Do you want to take a shot at me?”

“No.” She pauses. “No, I guess I don’t.”

“What can we do right now to reinforce what we have right now?”

She looks small and vulnerable and sad. “I don’t know.”

“Can we start with a hug?”

She paces away from me. “I need a minute. I just need to…” She lets out a rough breath and turns away from me.

I try not to panic, but it’s hard.

Then I hear her counting to ten, and my heart breaks. That was fucking stupid, an unforced error, and she’s right. I should have been more upfront about that bit of contact.

I tentatively move closer, and she sways, as if she wants to lean back against me.

And for what feels like the thousandth time, I whisper an apology to my wife.

29

Grace

The next week,we start couples counselling. Our therapist is someone Luke’s counsellor recommended. She begins by using his favourite word.

“When we talk about repairing a relationship after an affair, it’s important that we don’t focus on the affair itself at first. That’s an issue that isn’t going to be solved, per se, because there’s no changing the past. Repair is more about focusing on the future, and finding a softness, a peace in which you can move forward.”

I nod along. I agree with all of that in principle.

“So this means we need to be able to have moments, like what happened last week, and learn to just sit with them.”

“That stillness thing again,” Luke mutters to me.

I smile at him, then explain the reference to the therapist.

She nods. “Can you sit with that pain now? Can you look at it without having a big reaction?”

“Yes.” As long as I don’t need to do anything about it. Pretend it doesn’t exist.

She looks at me.

I stare right back. That’s all she’s getting. Yes, I can sit with it. I’m not giving her anything else to dig into right now. It’s Luke’s turn, and this is going to be hard enough as it is on him.

We both turn at the same time to give him our attention.

He’s coiled tight. “Yeah,” he says stiffly. “I can sit with it.”

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