Page 17 of Every Promise Broken

I shake my head. “No.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because Conrad wouldn’t want to talk about it.”

“Is that what he said?”

I huff, remembering going out to the ranch and him confronting me. “No, actually, he tried to talk about it.”

“And you didn’t want to?”

My chest heaves as I remember how it felt standing before him in the field. “I spent so long trying to get him to talk, to openup to me, and he never wanted to. And now that I’ve moved on, he wants to talk? Well, it’s too late.”

“It sounds like you may still have some anger about his inability to talk about things in the past. Does that seem fair to say?”

Frustration surges through my veins like poison. Nodding, I say, “Yes, I think so. I’m angry with him for shutting me out for so long when we were still married, only to suddenly want to communicate now. But I’m also disappointed in myself for even going there with him.”

She nods. “Why do you think you turned to Conrad for comfort and connection instead of Reggie?”

The question stings. Even though I know it doesn’t come from a place of judgement,I’mjudging me.

“Because Conrad was there and Reggie wasn’t?” I reply, knowing it’s a lie.

“Is that really all it was?” she asks. “Convenience? Do you think if it were somebody else who would’ve approached you, the outcome would’ve been the same?”

“Well, of course not.”

My skin is crawling.

Breathe, Whit. Deep breaths. Breathe in.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Breathe out.

“Why not?”

“Because… Because he’s Conrad.” It takes me aback at how quickly that answer came. How simple it is. “We have history, which I don’t have with anybody else.”

“Do you feel like you could have your needs met regarding the stress you’re dealing with, with Reggie?”

My heart stalls, a realization dawning on me like a lightbulb turning on. “I don’t think so,” I say quietly.

“Why do you think that is?”

Lifting one shoulder lazily into a shrug, I glance up, looking at Dr. Smizor, feeling pressure building behind my eyes again.I won’t cry.“I don’t know.”

Three words that are probably the most honest I’ve been all day, yet somehow feel like a punch to the gut.

Nodding, she glances down at her wrist in a way that lets me know our time for today is up. Urging me to think about that last question, we end the call, and somehow, I feel equal parts better and worse than when I started. Better, because I’ve gotten it off my chest, but worse, because it just proved my relationship is more surface level than I wanted to believe.

---