Page 19 of What Broke First
She looked at Sarah. Then at Matt.
“You both stopped seeing each other long before Lily came into the picture.”Matt stiffened. Sarah blinked, her jaw still clenched.
Dr. Colleen went on. “Taking each other for granted is the slowest form of emotional death. It doesn’t look like a screaming match. It looks like an empty dinner table. Missed eye contact. Touch that stops feeling like comfort and starts feeling like an obligation. You both played a part in that.”
Sarah’s shoulders tightened. “So, what, we’re equally to blame?”
“No,” Dr. Colleen said gently. “Responsibility isn’t a pie chart. There’s no neat division. Matt chose to betray your marriage. That’s his to own. But long before that, you each chose to stop reaching. And that’s what I want you to sit with.”
She let the weight of her words settle.
“You loved each other. I can see that. But love without effort becomes assumption. And assumption becomes resentment. That’s what kills most marriages, not the affair, but the silence that came before it.”
Neither of them spoke. The room felt smaller. Dr. Colleen leaned back slightly. “The question now isn’t who’s right. It’s whether either of you has the desire and the courage to stop rewriting the same day with new blame. You don’t need to decide that today. But you will need to decide.”
Matt swallowed hard. “I want to try. For real this time.”
Sarah stared at him. Her eyes didn’t soften. But for the first time, they didn’t harden either.
Dr. Colleen nodded. “That’s a start.”
They left the therapist’s office in silence, the night cooler than either of them expected. Sarah folded her arms, more from instinct than chill.
Matt glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “I meant what I said in there. I want to try.”
She kept walking. “I know.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
She stopped at the edge of the parking lot and turned.
“It’s not about belief, Matt. It’s about trust. You didn’t just betray me. You took something that only ever belonged to you, my certainty. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back.”
He nodded, jaw tight. “I get that.”
“I don’t think you do,” she said, her voice low but steady. “You lost me the moment I realized I didn’t matter in the world you were choosing to live in.”
He didn’t respond. What was there to say?
She unlocked her car and slid in, the door shutting with finality. Matt watched as her taillights disappeared, then stood alone beneath the weak glow of the parking lot light, wondering how many more times he’d have to watch her walk away.
Inside the car, Sarah exhaled hard and shook her head. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t spiraling. She was... considering. The steering wheel beneath her palms felt colder than it should have, and she sat motionless, letting the moment stretch.
She scrolled to Alanis Morissette’sYou Oughta Know, cranked the volume, and screamed every lyric with reckless abandon on the drive home. It wasn’t grace. It wasn’t healing. But it was catharsis.
Tomorrow night, she had a date. And no, it wasn’t about revenge or even hope. It was about reclaiming the version of herself that didn’t ask permission to feel good.
Chapter 11: Sarah's Wild Oat
Sarah adjusted the neckline of her navy blouse in the mirror, her fingers shaking just slightly from adrenaline. She wasn’t chasing a connection. Just a distraction. Something to prove she still had edges that hadn’t been dulled by grief.
Tonight wasn’t about moving on. It was about moving out of her own shadow.
The babysitter waved from the porch as Sarah grabbed her keys and purse, calling behind her, “Bedtime’s eight-thirty. Emily gets two stories. Tommy will try to con you into four. Don’t let him.”
She walked to her car with purpose. No guilt. No doubt. Just that buzz of mischief that came with knowing Matt still thought of her as the patient saint in yoga pants who packed lunches and kept her heartbreak folded neatly in drawers.
Let him think that.
