Page 23 of The Breaking Point

There’s a hitch in his breath. Then, quickly: “Okay. Yeah. I’ll do it. Anytime.”

“I can get an appointment tomorrow,” I say, then add, “But they have an individual opening today. If you can go. Just you.”

He hesitates. “Wouldn’t that be... a conflict? With yours?”

“There’s more than one therapist, Aiden,” I say. “It’s not a sitcom.”

“Right. Yeah. Of course. Okay. I’ll do it.”

I pause before I speak again, because I need him to hear it right.

“If you want this marriage to work... you have to do this for real. Not just so you can say you did it.”

His voice quiets. “I will. I promise.”

I nod even though he can’t see me. “I’ll text you the details. You’ll have to call to confirm.”

“Okay.”

We sit in the quiet for a few more seconds. Neither of us wants to hang up. But there’s nothing else to say. After a few beats, I end the call before driving out of the lot, and heading back to Quinn’s.

Getting in the door, I follow the noises to the kitchen. Quinn is there wearing an apron and sautéing something in the pan. “Hey!” she says, “Your support group went long.”

I say “I went to therapy.” She looks confused. “I mean I went to the support group and they recommended a therapist. So, I came home, saw your note, made an appointment and now I'm back.”

She looks proud. “Wow. You had a busy day.”

I nod, dropping the keys on the table near the counter and leaning against the island. The smell from her pan is warm and buttery, something with garlic maybe. My stomach reminds me I haven’t eaten since a bowl of cereal this morning.

Quinn turns the heat down and glances over at me. “How was it? The therapist?”

I let out a long breath. “Hard. But good. I didn’t realize how much I needed to just say out loud. All of it. To someone I don’t owe anything to.”

She tilts her head, studying me. “Did it help?”

“Some. He helped me make sense of... the mess. Or at least gave me permission to feel what I’m already feeling.” I pause. “I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t hurt. We have issues that go way beyond the stripper. I deserve better. And I finally said that.”

Quinn sets the spoon down and wipes her hands on the apron. She doesn’t say anything for a second. Then, “That’s big, Katy.”

I nod. “I also called Aiden.”

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“I told him I want to try couples counselling.”

Now she really looks surprised. “You do?”

I shrug. “I don’t know what I want yet, but I figured we might need help figuring it out. And if we’re going to try, really try, then it has to be real. Not just him playing the good husband act.”

“And?”

“I told him there was an opening for an individual appointment today. I asked him to go. Told him it’s not just about us, it’s about him doing the work, too.”

Quinn crosses her arms, leaning back against the counter. “Wow.”

“I know.”

“Did he agree?”

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