Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
S HANNON
Relief washes over me when Dr. Linden tells Troy and me that Oliver is making good progress in his therapy.
“The one-on-one time that you’ve been spending in the workshop with him seems to have really made an impact, Troy. He was very excited about the special projects you both worked on.” Dr. Linden smiles as she places her computer off to the side, and I don’t miss her quick glance at me. “He was very secretive about what it was you were making, but he says you loved them, Shannon.”
“I did.” I sneak a quick glance at Troy, but he’s watching Dr. Linden. “Very much.”
When I look back over at Troy, it’s obvious from his posture that he’s more relaxed than when we came into the room before we knew what Dr. Linden was going to say.
“I’m guessing he had quite a bit of help?” I say.
Troy turns to look at me and grins. “I can neither confirm nor deny that.” I roll my eyes at him, and we both turn back to look at Dr. Linden.
“Can you also tell us what your thoughts are on Chelsea’s play therapy? She seems to be doing okay at home and school, but I want to be certain we’re not missing anything.”
Dr. Linden reaches over to the side of her desk and pulls out a separate folder.
“Chelsea is doing very well. She’s been able to talk a little bit about your separation, saying it’s sad that you aren’t all living in the same house. At the same time, when she talks about the time she spends with each of you, it’s clear she’s feeling the love from you both.”
There’s a slight burning in my eyes as I try to hold back the emotion threatening to overwhelm me. Troy and I both hate the thought that anything might be hurting our kids, but we’re both committed to trying to make this as easy as possible on them.
“I also want to follow up on how Chase did after our session to explain the changes at home to him. How is he doing with his regression?” Dr. Linden’s brow furrows with curiosity.
As if on the same wavelength, Troy and I both look at each other before turning back to her.
“It’s going okay. The bed-wetting seems to have almost entirely stopped. There are still some nights where one or the other of us has a hard time getting him to sleep. Initially, we were doing this thing where we would go to the other’s place when he was having a difficult night and help him drift off. After a couple of nights in a row, though, we realized he learned how to get us to do that and started showing the behavior every night.”
“How did you handle that? You’re not going to each other’s house every night, are you?” Dr. Linden frowns.
“Oh, no,” I say. “We started doing a video call instead. It’s hard because the first few nights were pretty miserable, but eventually, we all got used to it. Now it seems to be a way to give him what he needs from both of us without invading each other’s evenings too much.”
Dr. Linden nods and then watches us closely for several long seconds. It’s almost like I can see the wheels turning in her head, and I’m eager to hear what she’s thinking about saying. She opens her mouth and then shuts it again, which is unusual for her because she seems to always know what to say.
I’m about to ask what she’s thinking when she saves me the trouble.
“Shannon, Troy, may I be frank with you?” Her voice has a cautious, serious edge to it. My heart beats harder against my chest wall, and an anxious feeling settles in my chest. Maybe I misunderstood everything she was saying, and things weren’t going as well with the kids as we hoped.
“Of course,” Troy says.
I nod and watch her eagerly, awaiting her next words.
“I would normally not involve myself in a situation I wasn’t asked to be involved in, either personally or professionally. However, I am the therapist for several of your children. So, what I’m about to say next could benefit them as well. Because of that, I’m okay discussing it.”
What the hell is she going to say?
“I understand you’re separated and moving toward a divorce, but have you considered whether counseling between the two of you might help preserve the marriage?”
When I glance over at Troy, he’s staring at her, open-mouthed. Clearly, she caught him off guard, too. After a few seconds, he seems to get his bearings.
“I’m seeing a counselor on my own.” Troy’s voice is so quiet I almost think I misheard him.
My head whips toward him. “What did you say?” He twists his body slightly until he’s facing me.
“I’ve been seeing a counselor for a few months now.”
My husband has been seeing a counselor, and I didn’t know it?
He won’t be your husband for very long, so it’s none of your business. Screw you, inner voice. Mind your business.
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Troy shrugs as if it’s no big deal, and my anger is like a dull throb in my head and heart.
“I told you about my counseling and what I was dealing with. That was the perfect opportunity for you to tell me you were going to counseling, too. I don’t understand why you didn’t.”
“It was personal. I’m dealing with a lot of stuff in there. Plus”—he pauses and takes a deep breath—"I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Why wouldn’t I care? You’re my husband. I’m your wife!” My tone is sharp, my voice raised.
Troy pulls back a bit, I suspect unconsciously, repositioning himself so he’s a little further away from me and not turned into me so much. The tips of his ears redden like they do when he’s upset... or angry.
“For how much longer, Shannon? What’s the countdown on that? Two weeks? What happens when we have to stand before that judge again, and this time she signs that paper? I’ll tell you what happens: we’ll be officially divorced. I won’t be your husband any longer. You won’t be my... You won’t be my wife. That’s what you wanted. It’s what you want .”
His words come out harsh and frustrated.
It’s like I’ve been slapped. I physically retract from him, stunned. I’m here! I’ll always be here. We have kids together.
“Is that the only reason? I whisper. “The only reason you didn’t tell me?”
He says nothing. Doesn’t look at me.
We sit here for several uncomfortable moments, me staring at him and him avoiding making eye contact with me. In deafening silence. Dr. Linden remains quiet.
Troy looks down at his watch. “I should probably go so I’m not late for school pick-up.” He won’t be late; pick-up is at least fifteen minutes from now. It’s a convenient excuse to get away from the uncomfortable situation. He stands to leave.
Now, I’m frustrated beyond measure. I thought we were communicating better.
“Because that’s what you do when a conversation gets hard. You shut down and avoid conflict. Look where that’s gotten us.” The accusation in my voice makes me wince, and when Troy looks at me, hurt flashes in his eyes before they turn cold.
“Shannon, would you stay back for a minute?” Dr. Linden asks.
“Sure.” My voice is hushed, unsure. Something inside me is shaken by the conversation. It’s not somewhere I ever expected this to go.
Troy says goodbye to Dr. Linden and leaves.
After he’s gone, I listen to Dr. Linden encourage me to do a deep dive into my thoughts and feelings about everything that’s been happening. To decide what I want the future to look like because, apparently, she thinks I’m the one holding all the cards between Troy and me.
I say goodbye to her and leave the office. When I’m a few steps down the hall, heading toward the checkout desk, I look up and freeze in place. Troy is already at the desk, and the receptionist hands him what appears to be a receipt. That’s not what has made me unable to move, though. It’s that he’s not alone at the reception desk. Next to him is a gorgeous brunette, clearly younger than me with a body that looks like she works out seven days a week and didn’t push four kids from her. I watch as Troy grabs a pen and a piece of scrap paper on the counter, scribbles something down on it, and hands it to her.
“Thanks.” Her response is simple, but her smile is radiant as she gives him a look I don’t like and then walks away. I watch Troy’s back as he makes his way to the door. When the woman makes it down the hall to where I am, she pauses when she sees me.
“Do you need directions somewhere, ma’am?”
Ma’am? Okay, she’s a few years younger than me, but not enough to be calling me ‘ma’am.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” I’m curter than I intend.
I force myself to walk again, and when I’m in the parking lot, I run to catch up with Troy. He’s almost at his car, and I’m not going to catch up with him before he gets there. So, despite there being people around outside, I decide this is worth using my mom voice, even if it embarrasses us both. I cup my hands around my mouth and yell out his name. He glances over his shoulder and stops a few feet away from his car.
When I reach him, Troy turns around to face me, and I notice, for the first time today, the dark circles under his eyes and his dry lips. There’s no smile on his face, and he looks exhausted. How did I miss that earlier?
“What was that about in there?”
Troy grips a handful of his hair and sighs. “What was what about, Shannon?”
“You freaked out on me because I was upset you hadn’t told me you were seeing a counselor. Why did you even need to see a counselor? What does he do for you?”
“She. My counselor is a female. Not a male.” I roll my eyes, annoyed that he chooses to focus on that. He shrugs. “I’ve got things. We all have things.”
“Like what? Are you talking about me? The marriage?”
Troy narrows his eyes at me, a frown on his face. “Tell me what you talk about with your counselor. What is she trying to help you with?”
I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t get any words out for a second. I want to tell him this is private information, but I realize how hypocritical I sound. Still, the idea of him having to talk to somebody about me does something to my insides that I don’t like.
He shakes his head and sighs. “That’s what I thought. Right now, she’s working with me on my communication. She’s helping me learn how to focus when there’s overstimulating activity around me, so I don’t forget things or miss something important somebody says to me. She’s giving me other tools instead of just talking slowly and not saying anything out of fear I’ll say the wrong thing.”
“Is that all?”
“No, Shannon, it’s not all.” Irritation drips from his words and he rubs at the flesh at the base of his thumb like he does sometimes. I’m not used to this side of Troy. “But I’m not in a place to talk about the rest right now. The rest is personal.”
I hate that I’m being replaced. I know it’s his counselor, but I’ve always been his person. I’ve been the one he was closest to and would share things with. When he would share, that is.
A thought strikes me, and once it’s stuck in my head, I can’t push it away without knowing the answer.
“Why don’t you do it with the kids?”
“What?” He sighs, lifting his gaze to the sky for several long seconds before looking at me again. “I should go.” He steps the last few feet to the car and clicks the key fob to unlock the door. I catch up with him in seconds.
“You don’t do it with the kids. When you talk to the kids, you don’t take as much time. You don’t go slow or measured. You’re just you. You laugh with them and joke around with them. You talk differently when you’re with the kids.”
He stands, staring at the car for several uncomfortable seconds before looking over his shoulder at me. “I don’t know...”
“Bullshit,” I snap, irritated.
Troy turns fully around and faces me. “Fine. You want to know why I talk freely with the kids when I can’t with anybody else... with you ?”
“Yes, that’s why I asked.” God, why am I being such a smartass right now?
“Because I’m not afraid the kids will leave me.”
I stand in the spot, shocked still, while Troy gets in his car and drives off. I can’t comprehend what he just implied. That all these years, he lived with a fear that I would leave him.
And I did.