session one
I climb the steps to The Bunker at ten to eleven, with my heart beating a million miles per minute.
So much so that the brass sign to the left of the double doors blurs a little.
I’m beyond grateful for the existence of this place and the people inside, as well as the other returned servicemen and women who frequent this establishment.
It’s given me a safe place where everyone inherently understands each other’s burdens and pressures because we’ve all shared similar experiences.
We don’t need to pretend to be someone we’re not here.
There are no pretenses and no fakery—my kinda place.
Pushing open the heavy brown door, I draw in a deep breath and feel some of the tension leave my shoulders.
Double-checking the time, I decide to grab coffee before my chat with Harry.
I weave through the tables, my footsteps thudding across the worn timber floor, and place my order.
While I wait, I try to pin down exactly what I’d like to achieve by the end of this session.
I know I can’t resolve all of my issues in one session, but I’d like to at least have a plan moving forward.
I need to know if Harry thinks my marriage can be saved.
I need to know if he thinks I can regain my wife’s trust and if I’ll be able to sleep next to her again.
I need to know there’s hope that I can hold Abbi as she falls asleep and know without a doubt that I won’t hurt her during the night.
I press the heel of my hand to my sternum and rub the ache there.
I miss the simplicity of our lives. Warm nights swimming in her parent’s pool, then sneaking off to fuck in the pool house before reluctantly going home.
Stealing kisses and sharing dreams. The naivety of dreaming up our future and it turning out exactly as planned.
I want that future. The future we dreamed up as kids. I only hope Abbi still wants it, too.
With two cups of coffee in hand, I make my way through the building to Harry’s room.
He doesn’t like to call it an office, preferring to keep things low-key.
I stop at his open door to find him staring out of the window with his back to me.
The room is bright and warm; welcoming. Before stepping over the threshold, I knock on his door to alert him of my presence.
He turns toward me with a friendly smile.
I’m certain he’s seen and experienced much worse than I have, yet I’ve never seen the man with a frown.
“Ah, young Nixon Steele. Come in,” he says as he steps toward me, taking the cup I’m holding out toward him and then shaking my hand.
He sips the hot drink and sighs. “Thank you. This is just what I needed.”
“You’re welcome.”
He waves toward the overstuffed armchairs off to the side. “Shall we sit, or would you prefer to wander through the community garden?”
I don’t want to risk someone overhearing our conversation. I’m not ready for everyone to know what a failure I am. “Happy to sit for a while.” I take the chair closest to the window, while Harry closes the door to give us privacy.
He sits casually, lounging in his chair as if he’s enjoying a Sunday afternoon chat with an old friend. “How’s business?”
“Good. Busy. Growing.”
He nods. “Sounds like everything’s going according to plan, then.”
“I guess you could say that.” It’s turned into a beast that’s overtaking my life.
Harry waves his finger around my face. “Okay. To be clear, those internal thoughts of yours need to be spoken.” He raises a bushy eyebrow.
“I can’t see inside your mind. A surprise, I know”—he holds out his hand and shrugs—“so you need to share all of your thoughts with me. No matter how big, how small, or how inconsequential you think they may be.” He sips his coffee. “Or this won’t work.”
I sigh. “Got it.” This isn’t going to be easy.
“There you go again. Saying more in your head than you say out loud.” He chuckles. “It takes practice, but you’ll get there.”
I shake my head. “How do you do that?”
He taps the side of his nose. “Trade secret, young man. Now, let’s get started.”
“Okay.” I sink further into my chair, trying to appear comfortable, but every muscle in my body is drawn tight, and my mind seems to have blanked of my purpose for being here.
“What drove you to call me this morning?”
Wow. Direct. I wipe my hand across my mouth and remember I’m supposed to say everything I think. “Wow. Direct.”
“No point in beating around the bush. I’m sure you have things you need to do.” He looks at me with raised brows, waiting for me to fill him in.
I blow out a heavy breath as I peer out of the window, suddenly finding it difficult to look Harry in the eye. The weight of the words sitting on my tongue taste bitter. “Abbi asked for a divorce yesterday.” I finally look at him. I’m sure he can see my shame written all over my face.
Harry’s brows scrunch down over his wise eyes; compassion dripping from his features. “I’m sorry to hear that, Nix.”
“Yeah. It came out of nowhere. I was completely blindsided.” Blood rushes to my ears as her words replay in my mind.
The muscle in my chest squeezes tight, and I wonder if it will ever function properly again after yesterday.
“The thought of losing Abbi is unacceptable. To know she’s so unhappy that she wants to leave me is devastating.
To learn that she doesn’t love me …” I shake my head, fisting my free hand on the arm of the overstuffed chair.
“I can’t imagine a world without Abbi’s unconditional love. I don’t want to.”
I glance at the gold band on Harry’s finger, then look at my wedding ring, rubbing the wide, dark surface with my thumb.
“I can imagine it was a shock, but Nix …” He waits until I look up at him.
“There would have been signs. It generally takes a lot to push a woman to the point of no return and, in their own way, they generally ask for changes to be made. It’s when those requests are ignored or glossed over that they can’t see any way forward, and it’s best for them if they walk away from the relationship. ”
I wince at his blunt response. But that’s why I called him. I knew he would give it to me straight. “If there were signs, I missed them.” Obviously.
What feels like a highlight reel begins to play in my mind.
Times when she asked if we could go to dinner or watch a movie, but there was always something important at work that needed my attention.
Moments of disappointment when we went our separate ways to bed after she begged me to sleep in our bed and I refused because I was worried I’d hurt her.
Shared dinners where I was busy answering messages and emails while Abbi sat opposite me quietly moving food around her plate.
Weekends when I had to work instead of joining my wife on one of our favorite running trails.
Small, seemingly inconsequential moments passed me by without thought for the impact they had on my wife.
Harry clears his throat, dragging me from my memories. “Okay. Tell me … did she give you a reason yesterday?”
Rubbing my hands along my thighs, I think back to yesterday and the moment Abbi broke my fucking heart. “To be completely honest, I’d rather not think about it.”
“You’ve faced down terrorists, Nix. You can do this,” he says kindly, encouraging me to split the fresh wound open.
I drop my eyes in shame. I can’t look at Harry while I explain how I failed my wife. “She said she’s tired of being invisible in our marriage. That she’s exhausted from carrying the emotional load and she’s tired of being alone.”
In my periphery, I see Harry nodding. “Do you think her feelings are valid?”
“Fuck no. She’s all I see, so I don’t know how she feels invisible, and if I’m not working my ass off, I’m at home.
So I don’t get how she’s tired of being alone,” I snap, frustrated that she can’t see how much she and our family mean to me.
That she can’t see the legacy and financial security I’m trying to build for her and the kids.
“Yes, but does she know that you only see her?” He pauses a moment.
“And often women who feel invisible in a marriage feel emotionally neglected. It’s not about being noticed as a body in the room; it’s about being noticed as a person.
As a partner. As a lover. It’s about feeling important to their partner.
Like they’re a priority in the relationship. ”
“Well, of course she’s my priority. I’m working my ass off to build a solid business so she’ll be financially secure if something happens to me.”
Harry smiles at me as if I’m a moron. “And I’m guessing working your ass off means that you spend a significant amount of time and energy focused on your business?” He raises his eyebrows and softens his smile.
I sense a trap. “Well, yeah,” I respond with caution.
“Do you leave work at the office?” He takes a sip of his coffee while he waits for my reply.
I scoff. “As if I can do that with the type of business I run. Shit happens all the time and I need to deal with it immediately. It’s not like the guys in the field can wait until office hours to speak with me about a situation.”
He nods slowly, still sipping his coffee. He takes his time to place the cup on the coffee table, twisting the cup just so, before looking at me again. “So then, when does Abbi get your full, uninterrupted attention?”
I open my mouth to answer, but slam it closed again as I think over the last week before she asked for the divorce.
I come up blank, so I think further back, but time spent with Abbi is missing, apart from a few minutes here and there in passing.
I shake my head, disappointment oozing through me like lava.
Heat rises to my cheeks, painting my shame for Harry to see.
“I-I can’t place a time in the last several weeks and, if I’m completely honest, I doubt there would have been a time before that.
” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my thighs, and drop my head.
Gripping the back of my neck, I come to terms with my situation.
It’s worse than I thought. “I’m such an asshole. ”
“Not an asshole. A man who has trouble with time management and prioritizing what’s truly important in life,” he says softly.
“Let me ask you this.” I look up at him, waiting for his question.
“When you look into the future, who is beside you? Is it Abbi and the family you’ve created together?
Or … is it the people you work with and your clients? ”
I stand and pace to the window and lean against the sill. “Fuck, when you put it like that, I don’t have to think about it. Hands down … Abbi and the kids. No question.”
Harry grins at me like a proud father. “Just as I thought.” He taps his fingers on the arm of his chair.
“I’m glad that you’re planning for your future, but at this point, you may be spending that future alone.
So, tell me what changes need to be made to ensure this doesn’t happen? Let’s work out a plan.”
I stand taller because I’ve already started working on this.
“I met with my second-in-command this morning, and we’re making changes to the schedule and looking to hire another senior member of staff to take some of the load.
” Harry nods. “It won’t be a quick fix. It’ll take time to make it happen, but I’ve already removed myself from overnight and weekend jobs in the coming weeks. ”
His graying brows rise. “Good. That’s a promising start.
It’s important to have realistic goals, and it’s also important to keep Abbi in the loop.
Let her know about your meeting today and what’s coming of it …
what you’re aiming to achieve. It will let her know that you’re taking her wants and needs seriously. ”
“I will. I plan to make dinner tonight. Hopefully, we can talk about it then.” Hope seeps deeper between the cracks of my shattered heart.
“That sounds like a great start.” He grows more serious, and I head back to my armchair and perch on the edge.
“But Nix, I want you to be careful. It’s easy to react to Abbi’s request to end the relationship by making lots of effort to fix things.
However, for your marriage to truly get back on track, where you’re both happy and fulfilled, your actions need to be sustainable.
” I tilt my head to the side, narrowing my eyes, trying to understand what he’s saying.
“Abbi needs to see real change, Nix. And it needs to be permanent. Not a short-term fix to appease her, and after a while you’ll go back to doing what you’ve always done—the behavior that got you to this point with your wife.
” I nod. “Do you understand what I’m saying? ”
“I think so.”
“Explain it back to me, so I’m certain you get it. Because we want your marriage to go from strength to strength. I don’t want to see you in this same position in twelve months’ or two years’ time.”
“What’s not to get?” I snap. I’m not a fucking idiot.
He grins at me. “If you’d gotten it, we wouldn’t be sitting here. Humor me, Nix.”
Jesus, he doesn’t pull his punches.
I guess he has a point. “All right. I need to make genuine changes that I can sustain. I can’t go hard and fast now and then ease off and slip back into old habits.”
He nods proudly, then stands and wanders over to his desk. “You’ve got it.” He shuffles a few papers around and comes back with a notepad and pen. “Let’s make a plan for the next week.”
We work together to make a realistic plan for the week, and I walk out of his office feeling less overwhelmed, knowing I have something concrete to work with.