Chapter Thirty-Four #2
"Most of the couples I have in those seats need that wakeup call, as unpleasant and devastating as it can be.
In this case, it seems it was the missed couple's therapy session and Wendy filing for separation.
You both are here now, and you're doing the work at home.
That's what matters. We cannot erase the past or the feelings it left behind, no matter how much we want to.
But we can acquire these tools to recognize a backslide before it even happens. "
Atlas and I share a look, and we both smile at each other.
We're here. We're doing the work. We're going to heal.
We're going to be Atlas and Wendy again.
"Atlas," she says, gesturing for him to go.
He's shaking, and so am I.
The adrenaline is leaving my body. All these feelings I've kept wrapped up inside of me, burying them deeper and deeper so that I can focus on my kids, on Atlas, on my growing independence, on finding Wendy.
They're out in the open—all of them.
No more trickling. It was a flood, and now I feel... light.
Free.
I hope it's like that for Atlas, and I'm going to hold him through this, knowing how scary, how difficult it is.
Whatever he has to say, they are his feelings. If he confirms all of my fears because that's how he felt, I will listen, I will change the behaviors I need to change.
Because I love Atlas. I'll scream it louder than the guilt that invades my head. I will tell that voice that it's not real, and it can't control me. Not anymore.
Atlas takes a deep breath and tells Dr. D'Amore about that night, his voice shaking as he does so. I keep my hand locked in his, scooting over on the couch so my side is pressed against his, full contact, full support, all love.
His voice is quiet when he talks about his diagnosis and treatment plan.
His next words catch me off guard.
"The first weekend with the boys... I realized how absent I've been, not only as a husband, but as a father. I couldn't even make my kids breakfast. I hadn't cooked in... I don't even know how long. I realized how much I've been pushing onto my wife's plate."
“Keep going,” Dr. D’Amore encourages with a nod.
I keep my eyes locked onto Atlas as he looks at me and continues speaking.
"I've truly been thinking about how easy Wendy makes my life, at the expense of her.
She takes care of the boys, cooks our meals, cleans, shops, pays the bills, and schedules appointments—all of it.
Stuff I just assumed was done by magic," Atlas turns to me.
"It was done by magic—it was done by my wife. "
I didn't know this. This was something I thought I would have to approach with time, with a couple of therapy sessions.
I didn't know that Atlas saw.
"I'm a father. I'm an adult, and my sons were the ones helping their mother—protecting their mother. I failed at a lot, but that—not being the husband and father my wife and kids deserve is my greatest."
"Atlas..."
"Even before Carrie died, I wasn't pulling my weight as I should have. Wendy had everything at home covered, so I thought all I had to do was my job. Make money for them, provide them with a good life and a good future. I just... I didn't know she was struggling."
The situation lay bare before us.
Atlas struggling mentally, not knowing he should ask for help.
Me struggling with taking care of the kids and the home, not knowing I could ask for help.
Atlas snorts. "Look at us."
"Look at us," I laugh, shaking my head.
The smile drops from Atlas' face as he faces me directly and leans forward.
"Wendy, I'm so sorry. I am so sorry for leaving all of it to you—the childcare, the house, the bills, the appointments, and then.
.. the last year... you know, I'll never apologize enough for my neglect. But you are my entire world. Everything begins and ends with you. Our entire lives, mine and the boys, would be nothing without you.”
I smile as his words wrap around me and settle. He gives me a small smile and kisses my hand again, lingering a little longer this time.
“Trace said something to me—he said houses usually fall apart without their cornerstone,” Atlas leans toward me, eyes glassy. "That's you, baby. You're my cornerstone. I would completely fall apart without you."
My heart is slamming in my chest like it's trying to break out and nestle itself in his. Because that's where it belongs. My heart has always belonged to Atlas.
"I love you, Atlas. No matter what—I love you. Always have."
"Always will," he finishes with a watery laugh, reaching out with his free hand to brush the tears from my cheeks. That hole in my chest stitches itself together even more.
We're not healed, but... we're getting there.
We made the first steps. Huge steps.
And now we keep at it.
"Both of you were incredibly vulnerable today," Dr. D'Amore smiles, eyes bouncing back and forth between us. "You should be very proud."
"Doc, I—" Atlas starts, glancing back at me. "I know I've... I've broken Wendy's trust in me. How do I repair that?"
"You are, Atlas," I assure him, and he nods, glancing at me before turning back to the doctor, his face serious.
"Well, rebuilding trust is a slow process,” she acknowledges. “How was trust built in your relationship before?"
Atlas and I share a look. How did we build trust in our relationship? We started so young; we've known each other for two decades.
All of that trust built up was fractured in one year, but not broken. I still feel it coursing through me, patching itself up each day that Atlas shows up. When he calls me when he's scared.
"It just built organically," I tell Dr. D'Amore, who smiles like I just answered the question right. "Over the last... twenty years."
She nods. "You both want to still be together, correct?"
"Yes," Atlas and I practically shout at the same time, before sharing another amused look.
"So..." she shrugs, smiling at both of us. "Date each other."
◆◆◆
Atlas walks me to my car after our appointment.
But I don't get in the car once we're there, and Atlas doesn't wave goodbye and walk away.
We linger by the front, Atlas looking at me, me looking at him, enjoying the sight of my very handsome husband. He grins widely when he catches me looking.
"I think that went well..." I murmur, and he nods, though his eyes go a little sad.
"I think so too. I'm so sorry for missing the first appointment. I just keep thinking that maybe—"
"What?" I encourage him to continue.
He hesitates before sighing, "Maybe we could be back to where we were by now. Maybe I'd be further along with my treatment. I'd be home by now."
"It's a marathon, not a sprint, honey," I step closer, and his eyes light up at the pet name. "And I don't want to go back. We can't go back—"
"But we can make something even better," he finishes softly.
I smile at him before an idea strikes me.
Date each other.
"Are you hungry?" I ask, and his eyes widen in surprise, before relief fills them, like he had been wanting to ask me that question. He doesn't want to part yet, just like I don't.
"I could eat," he shrugs, acting casual, and it makes me laugh.
"Antonia's?"
"Here, I'll drive—I wanna see how the car feels," he says, holding out his hand where I place the keys without a second thought. Before I pull away, he closes his hand around mine, keeping me there. "Thank you, baby."
I step forward and wrap my arms around his shoulders.
He freezes, like a statue, and I feel his entire body shudder before his big arms come around me.
My husband folds me in his safe, warm embrace, and I feel the tears sting my eyes.
This is the first time he's held me like this since that night I served him, when I broke down in his arms.
This feels like heaven.
I bury my face in his shoulder, and his hand presses to the back of my head, his other arm around my back, pulling me closer and closer to him.
I melt into him, and hitch a sob when I feel him press a lingering kiss to my hair, inhaling deeply while I'm doing the same to him.
"Wendy, my baby..." he whispers, his voice cracking.
"My Atlas..."
My hands clutch the back of his shirt, wrinkling the nice fabric, but I don't care.
I'm home.