session two
“Ah, young Nixon,” Harry states when he looks up from his desk.
I hold up two cups and step over the threshold. “Harry. I brought a peace offering.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d show after you stood me up last time.” The slight censure in his tone, and the way he’s seemingly looking down his nose at me from his seated position gives me pause as I hand over his drink and take a seat.
He climbs to his feet and sits in the overstuffed armchair facing me. He takes a moment to get comfortable and watches me over the top of his cup, steam rising in front of his face, fogging up his glasses.
“I’m sorry about that. Emergency at work.” I drink my too-hot coffee, scalding my tongue to cover my lie. Harry watches me, waiting me out. I carelessly lift and drop a single shoulder, and cross my ankle over my knee. “I also don’t have any progress to report.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “Explain.”
I trace the stitching on the wide arm of the chair instead of looking at Harry.
“For the last three weeks, I’ve barely seen my wife.
I cleared my schedule to concentrate on our marriage, and suddenly she’s super busy doing whatever it is she does.
Staying late at work, wedding planning with our daughter, dinner with her sister, volunteering.
It’s been endless.” I draw in a calming breath to tamp down the frustration I’ve felt over her lack of availability.
He makes a circle with his index finger and points at my face. “What’s going on there? You look like you’ve been told you have to make an alliance with the enemy.” That may be an easier task.
I huff and lean forward, balancing my elbows on my knees. Do I really have to say it again? “I cleared my schedule. I’ve been home every night and every weekend since she dropped the bomb that she wants a divorce and sent my world splintering into a million pieces.”
Harry nods. “That’s a good start. And being consistent is important to show Abbi that you mean business. So what’s the problem?”
I flop back into the thick cushions like a petulant teenager.
“She’s been busy. I’ve hardly seen her. And the few times we’ve eaten a meal together, the silence between us is deafening.
We’ve barely said a dozen words to each other, let alone had a decent, meaningful conversation.
There’s a coldness between us that I’ve never felt before. ”
“I hear you.”
“It’s been frustrating. I’m making the effort, and she’s making none.
It’s like we’re strangers. Worse than strangers.
” I stand and pace to the window, peering outside at the overcast sky.
“I’ve been frustrated beyond belief. I keep messing up at work because I can’t focus, wondering if Abbi even wants to fix our marriage.
She told me she was torn, but she agreed to give me a chance. ”
Harry climbs to his feet and joins me at the window, talking to the glass instead of me. “So, let me get this straight. You’re ready to work on your marriage, and you don’t appreciate Abbi being unavailable or uninterested in doing the same.”
I nod. It’s not hard to understand what I was saying.
“You seem to be taking this personally. She’s an independent woman who has curated a life for herself that doesn’t include you because, more often than not, you weren’t around. Are you certain she’s avoiding you and not just living the life she built for herself?”
My world tilts on its axis. I hadn’t considered that. I haven’t been privy to how my wife spends her days because I’ve been absent or my focus has been elsewhere. My fingers curl into fists, and I want to punch myself in the face for my oversight.
“You do realize your wife has lived with your disinterest and unavailability for several years?” he says kindly, but I rear back as if he’s punched me in the gut.
“She had no choice but to fill her life with things outside of you and your marriage.” My breath gushes out in a rush, and I press my hand to the windowsill to hold myself up.
“Deep breaths, Nix,” he counsels as he pats me gently on the shoulder.
“Sometimes we don’t see the destruction our actions cause until they’re mirrored back to us. ”
Is that what she’s doing? Punishing me by keeping her distance? That doesn’t seem like something Abbi would do, but then again, I never would have anticipated her asking for a divorce either.
I shake my head back and forth, unable to form coherent words.
I’m a selfish son of a bitch. “I-I had no idea it felt like this.” No wonder she asked for a divorce.
I’ve felt like a spectator on the sidelines of Abbi’s life, and it hasn’t been a great feeling.
I’ve only had to deal with it for three weeks.
She’s been feeling this way for … I shake my head, ashamed.
Years. She’s felt like I don’t care for years.
But we kissed. We kissed as if we were the beginning and end of everything. It gave me hope.
He squeezes my shoulder. “Of course you didn’t.
You didn’t intentionally abandon Abbi or your marriage.
In your mind, you were working hard to provide for your family.
A very noble act.” He moves around his desk, back to his armchair, and sits.
“However, I fear that’s how Abbi saw it.
Everyone’s perception of a situation will be different based on their personal experiences.
For Abbi, she possibly saw this as you abandoning her and leaving her to fend for herself in all the ways that are important to her in your marriage.
” He shrugs as if it doesn’t matter. It fucking does.
“Another woman would be thrilled that you prioritized financial stability over time with your loved ones.” He looks at me.
“But, Nix, just because you’re ready to work on your marriage doesn’t mean Abbi is.
She’s hurting. She’s grieving a marriage she thought meant as much to you as it did to her. ”
“It does though,” I snap. “Her, our marriage, and our family mean everything to me. It’s why I’ve been working my ass off to create financial security for them.
I don’t want to leave them with nothing if something happens to me.
I don’t want her to have to break her back to make ends meet, barely getting by. ” I sigh. “She deserves better.”
“You mentioned financial security the last time we met. I assume it’s important to you for one reason or another, but have you asked Abbi what’s important to her?”
I snap my eyes to Harry’s. “What do you mean?”
“The fact that you’ve asked me that question answers my question.
” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the pads of his fingers pressed together.
“Often, we think it’s our role to make decisions for everyone around us.
Especially someone who’s been in your position.
Leading men and women in dangerous and challenging situations.
However, your marriage isn’t a dangerous situation.
It may be challenging right now, I’ll give you that, but you are in a safe space, Nix.
You no longer need to decide what’s best for those around you.
You can trust they know what’s best for themselves.
You can trust Abbi to know what she needs from you and your relationship.
Maybe she doesn’t place as much importance on financial security.
” He shrugs. “Maybe she has different priorities.” He watches me closely, waiting for me to answer.
“But financial security is important. I should know,” I snap, jabbing my thumb into the center of my chest.
Harry pushes back into his armchair and picks up his coffee, taking a long drink. “Explain why it’s so important to you. I sense a deep-rooted reason for such a strong belief.”
My skin feels too tight and itchy under his scrutiny.
“There’s nothing deep. Just experience. We lost my father when I was eleven, which left my mother to raise and support my brother and me.
She had to work two jobs just to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table.
There was never anything left over. She worked herself into an early grave, and there’s no way on this earth I’ll allow that to happen to Abbi.
” I slash my hand through the air. “Over my dead body will she ever struggle or go without, when she never had to growing up. Her parents were … are wealthy—a doctor and a lawyer. She could have anything she wanted. A brand new car when she turned sixteen and all the latest fashion. I work hard to ensure she has everything she could ever want. I don’t want her to go without under my care. ”
He nods thoughtfully. “I understand. That would be difficult for a young boy becoming a man to experience. Losing your father and then having to watch your mother work so hard when there was no other option for her. An experience like that shapes a person, especially at such a formative age. It creates a belief system in your psyche that guides you in adulthood, whether the information is accurate or not.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that while you brought the need to protect Abbi and your family financially, Abbi has brought her own needs to your relationship that I think may be in direct opposition to yours.
” He spreads his hands, palms up. “I want you to think about this.” I nod for him to continue.
“You said her parents held jobs of high esteem—a doctor and a lawyer.” I nod in confirmation.
“They’re jobs that bring financial stability to a family, which is all well and good.
But those types of jobs require a great deal of dedication.
Dedication that takes time. Time that should be spent with their family is often sacrificed to advance a coveted career.
” He looks at me as if I should understand what he’s saying, but I’m lost.
“Well, of course. If you want to be successful, you have to give it everything you’ve got. You can’t half-ass it,” I scoff. I got that message loud and clear from her parents, who thought I wasn’t good enough for their daughter.
“Absolutely. And it’s a choice.” He holds out his hands, raising one. “Career.” He lowers his hand and raises the other, like a scale. “Or family. Often, we can’t have both.”
I get it. I understand what he’s telling me. “I know. I can’t invest all of my time in my business and give all of my time to my family too.” He nods. “That’s why I’ve pulled back. Made other arrangements. For Abbi. For our family.”
“And that’s admirable. I’m pleased you took swift action. But you’re not getting it,” he tells me, frustration seeping into his voice.
I shoot to my feet. “Then, fucking explain it to me like I’m five!” I shout. My blood rushes through my veins like a freight train. “Stop talking in riddles. Speak plainly.”
He sighs loudly, as if he’s tired of my bullshit.
“I’m saying that when Abbi was a girl, it’s likely her parents weren’t available because they dedicated a lot of time and energy to their careers.
They gave her financial security, yet they were likely absent and she probably felt invisible to them.
” He tilts his head to the side. “Sound familiar?”
I drop to my ass. He may as well have taken a sledgehammer to my head with the force of impact his words have on me. And like a movie reel, my early years with Abbi replay.
Her always having to rush home from school to look after Callie.
Not being able to go to parties. Always being able to fool around at her parents’ house because they were never home.
Abbi shopping and preparing the meals. Taking Callie to school on her first day and every day thereafter.
She practically raised her baby sister, even though they had a nanny in the afternoons.
All because her parents were never around.
I figured it was because she adored Callie, but when I think about it, I never once saw Dr. and Mrs. Murphy spend any time with their daughters.
They didn’t even show up for Abbi’s high school or college graduation.
Callie lived at our house more than her parents’ once we moved in together.
Hell, I walked Callie down the aisle on her wedding day because their parents couldn’t step away from work for one single goddamn weekend.
And Abbi. Well, she did it all without complaint.
She managed school, college, and our relationship without skipping a beat or a single complaint.
She bent over backwards to give Callie a happy childhood and ensured she was always available in her teenage years.
She was more of a mother to her sister than her own mother ever has been.
I never knew two sisters could be so close, but then I guess there was no other option for Abbi.
She didn’t want her sister to experience the neglect she experienced at the hands of her parents.
“Fuck!” I punch the overstuffed arm of the chair. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I shake my head, anger bubbling through my veins, my stomach twisting and burning. I need to fucking punch something. “I fucked up so badly.”
“You did. And I’m glad you realize,” he says calmly.
“Abbi doesn’t want your money, Nix. As you said yourself, she has a great job and earns her own money.
What she wants … what she needs, is your time and attention.
Something I’m almost certain she never had growing up.
It’s not something she’ll ask for either.
Women who grow up in an environment like that never learn to ask for what they want, assuming their needs aren’t important. They learn to live in the background.”
I swallow the sawdust in my throat. “And then my near-death experience overseas increased my need to ensure Abbi has everything she needs if something were to happen to me. Ensuring I was rarely available for her.” Fuck! I shake my head at this realization.
He nods slowly as he traces his finger over his top lip, dragging it back and forward beneath the white whiskers of his mustache. “Do you think you can give her what she needs from you? Your time and attention?”
I stand, needing to pace. Desperate to burn the anger out of my blood. “Of course I can fucking give her my time and attention.”
It’s all I ever had to give her when we were young.
I didn’t have money or a fancy car. But I had time between school and my part-time jobs to help Mom.
Time that I always wanted to spend with her, because even though I knew she was too good for me, she never once looked at me like the poor kid I was.
And when I think back, she soaked up my attention like a flower finally getting sunshine. She blossomed. And we were … happy. Solid. In love.