Chapter 48
Pass/Fail
Finn
It was a new week, and everything felt lighter.
Alex was more relaxed—the Catalyst structure solved and everyone on board with her partnership plan.
We’d spent the weekend hiking and exploring Jackson Hole, just being together without therapy sessions or business calls or anyone watching and assessing.
I’d almost forgotten Elena was still observing until she spoke up from across the table where the three of us were having breakfast.
“I’d like to schedule the joint session with you both for Wednesday afternoon,” her tone was casual but deliberate. “Does that work for your schedules, Alex?”
My coffee mug stopped halfway to my mouth. Joint session. Right. We’d known this was coming.
“Wednesday works,” Alex replied immediately.
“Perfect. Let’s plan on two,” Elena made a note. “Nothing to prepare for, just come as you are. We’ll talk through how you’re functioning as partners, what’s working, what could be stronger.”
“Sounds good,” I managed, setting down my mug before my hands could shake.
After breakfast, Alex kissed me and headed to Dad’s office to work. “Stop thinking so loud,” she murmured against my lips.
“Can’t help it.”
“I know,” she squeezed my hand. “But we’re gonna be fine. It’s just talking about what we already do.”
Except it wasn’t just talking. It was being evaluated for functionality and compatibility and whether my trauma was damaging the best thing that had happened to me in possibly my entire life.
I had my own session with Elena that afternoon, working through triggers, coping strategies, and building tools for managing episodes before they became crises.
But the whole time, part of my brain was already on Wednesday, already sitting across from Elena with Alex beside me, trying to prove we worked.
I had Tuesday off. No formal session, no observation, just rest and processing while Elena worked with her other clients remotely. Alex and I took a walk around the property, and I showed her where everything would be during my family’s annual giant Fourth of July celebration the following week.
“What about those?” She pointed to a scattered grouping of cream-colored tents on wood decks near the tree line, their twin-peak tension canopies rising into the air.
“Those are Elowyn’s latest expansion,” I smiled. “Glamping tents or whatever they’re called. Luxury roughin’ it. Got working plumbing and everything.”
“Hmm…” The look in her eye meant something was brewing in that gorgeous head of hers. “They don’t look like they’re being used.”
“I think she’s putting in the finishing touches in the next couple of weeks.” I tugged on her hand. “Come on, I want to show you where they’re putting the stage and dance floor.”
On Wednesday morning, my stomach was filled with the same pre-mission anxiety I used to get when I was still enlisted—something important coming, needing to be ready, unable to control the outcome.
Alex was still asleep beside me and I watched her for a moment—lashes fluttering softly against her cheeks, the soft curve of her shoulder and hip, the trust in her relaxed face as she took a slow, deep breath.
She’d chosen to be here. Chosen me.
What if Elena identified some dynamic that was harmful, some pattern that meant we were bad for each other despite how right it felt?
“You’re thinking loud,” Alex mumbled without opening her eyes. “Told you that was my job.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just come here.” She reached for me, pulled me close until my head rested on her chest, her heartbeat steady under my ear. “We’re gonna be fine, Finn. Elena’s not trying to find reasons to break us up. She’s trying to help us work better together.”
“What if she sees that I’m holding you back?”
“You’re not. I wouldn’t be here if you were.” Her hand moved through my hair, grounding. “You’re doing your own hard work, I’m doing mine, and we’re supporting each other through it. That’s what she’s going to see.”
I wanted to believe that. Needed to believe it.
“Two o’clock,” I whispered.
“Two o’clock,” she confirmed. “And until then, we just keep being us.”
The consultation room felt smaller with three of us in it.
I’d sat across from Elena plenty this week, but with Alex here, the stakes felt a hell of a lot higher than when I was alone. I extinguished the candle and put the lid on top so Alex wouldn’t have to smell it.
Elena settled into her chair, notepad on the side table as always.
“Thank you both for making time this afternoon,” she nodded, smiling. “I know the last couple of weeks have been intense.”
“That’s one word for it,” I muttered as we sat down on the sofa.
Alex’s hand found mine. Squeezed once. I squeezed back.
“Before we start, I want to be clear about what this session is and isn’t.
” Elena crossed one knee over the other, resting her hands on her lap.
“This isn’t relationship therapy. I’m not here to evaluate whether you’re good together or fix communication problems. I’m assessing how you function as partners during stress, how you support each other, and whether your relationship dynamics help or hinder Finn’s recovery. ”
Alex nodded while my shoulders tightened.
“The goal is to understand what’s actually happening between you so I can provide better support for both of you moving forward.” Elena looked between us. “Make sense?”
“Yes ma’am,” I said.
“Makes sense,” Alex added.
“Good.” Elena settled back in her chair. “Let’s start with daily functioning. Walk me through a typical day here. Who notices what?”
Alex glanced at me, then back at Elena. “I notice when he’s pushing too hard.
The signs are subtle. He gets quieter, more focused on whatever task he’s doing.
His jaw tightens. His responses are more measured and careful.
He starts moving differently, favoring his right side when he’s tired or in pain. ”
Accurate. All of it.
“And Finn, what do you notice about Alex?”
“When she’s overwhelmed, she reorganizes things. Straightens items, adjusts her clothes, finds something to control.” I traced my thumb across her knuckles. “Goes systematic—needs to process by creating order.”
“Do you tell each other when you’re struggling? When you notice yourself falling into these patterns?”
“Sometimes,” Alex said carefully. “More often lately than at first.”
“What stops you when you don’t?”
I shifted in my chair. “Not wanting to worry her. Especially when it’s something I should be able to handle myself.”
“And you, Alex?”
“Not wanting to add to his stress when he’s already managing so much.” She swallowed. “Or convincing myself I’m fine when I’m not.”
Elena made a note. “So you both have patterns of protecting each other by not being fully honest about your own struggles.”
“We’re working on it,” I defended.
“I can see that,” Elena’s voice stayed even. “But let’s dig into what ‘fine’ actually means for both of you. Alex, when you say you’re fine, what are you really communicating?”
“That I’ve got it handled. That I don’t need help. That whatever I’m feeling isn’t worth bothering anyone else with.”
“Is that true? That what you’re feeling isn’t worth addressing?”
“No. But it feels true in the moment. Like if I admit I’m struggling, everything will fall apart.”
“That’s your armor,” Elena observed. “The competence, the organization, the ‘I’ve got this’ presentation. It protects you from having to be vulnerable.”
“Yes,” Alex nodded, not looking ashamed despite the admission. My brave girl.
Elena turned to me. “And Finn, when you hide things from Alex—your pain levels, the injection situation, how hard you’re actually struggling—what are you protecting her from?”
My jaw tightened automatically. “From seeing how broken I am. From having another thing to worry about when she’s already dealing with her own situation.”
“But she’s choosing to be here. Choosing you, knowing you’re dealing with trauma and medical complications.” Elena leaned forward slightly. “When you hide those things, you’re making decisions for her about what she can handle instead of trusting her to make that choice herself.”
“I know,” I couldn’t look at either of them. “Logically I know that. But the instinct is still there. Protect her, don’t be a burden, handle it myself.”
“Because if you’re not useful, what’s the point?”
I stiffened.
“Yeah.”
“And Alex, when you organize and systematize and convince yourself you’re fine, you’re doing the same thing. Proving your value through productivity and competence instead of just existing and being enough.”
“We talked about this,” she sighed, glancing at me. “How we’re both terrible at believing we’re enough just as we are.”
“Good,” Elena made another note. “That’s significant. You’re aware of the pattern. But awareness and change are different things. So let’s talk about what happens when those patterns collide. When Finn’s hiding his struggles and Alex is armoring up with competence. How does that actually play out?”
Alex and I exchanged a glance.
“The testosterone injections,” she said quietly. “That’s a good example.”
Elena’s pen stilled. “Tell me about that from your perspective, Alex.”
“Finn’s been getting them since we got here. His dad’s been helping him because his hands aren’t steady enough to do them himself yet,” Alex’s voice stayed even, controlled, detached. “I found out almost two weeks ago when Nolan mentioned it in front of me. Finn hadn’t told me.”
“Why not?” Elena looked at me.
“Didn’t want her to see another broken part. The injections are proof my body doesn’t work right anymore, that I need medical intervention just to function like a normal man.” I rubbed my free hand over my face. “Another defective piece she hadn’t signed up for.”
“But she did sign up for it,” Elena said matter-of-factly. “By choosing to be with you, to come to Wyoming with you. By working through the PTSD episode, by being here right now. She’s actively choosing you, limitations and all.”