Chapter 28 Khloe
Khloe
The house was so silent that we could literally hear each other thinking.
Kairo and I sat on opposite ends of the couch in the den, closer than we wanted but far enough that two full-grown adults could’ve sat comfortably between us.
Our bodies faced forward, but everything else about us felt turned away from each other.
The distance wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, mental, and spiritual.
I stared straight ahead, afraid to look at him for too long because every time I did, my chest tightened.
How is this my husband?
This isn’t the man who promised me forever.
This isn’t the man I fell in love with.
Or maybe… we just weren’t the same people anymore.
Across from us sat a woman who had walked into our home smiling, completely unaware of the emotional hurricane she had stepped into.
She was beautiful. Black hair with blonde highlights framing her face, soft makeup, calm eyes that felt observant without feeling invasive. She looked like nothing we said could surprise her. She was in for a rude awakening, I thought.
Thank God for Coffee and Niv. The moment Coffee heard my voice earlier, she went into full command mode. Within an hour, Niv had come to pick up Kennedi.
“You two need no distractions,” Coffee had said firmly. “This is the time to finally lay everything on the table.”
I hated how serious that sounded. Laying everything on the table meant admitting that something in our marriage had broken badly enough to need outside help.
The woman cleared her throat gently. Kairo and I looked up at the same time. She had already taken off her bag and placed it neatly beside her chair. A notebook rested in her lap and a pen in her hand.
“I know you’re probably not excited to see me,” she said smiling “Because who really wants to sit down and talk about things as tough as marriage?”
My heart started racing immediately. I didn’t do therapy. I didn’t believe I needed fixing. Yet there I was, sitting across from a licensed professional in my own home because my marriage had reached a place where love alone wasn’t enough anymore.
The realization made me feel like I’d failed. I felt like I had fallen to the lowest version of myself.
She leaned forward. “My name is Sydnee Rose Stallard,” she said. “I’m a therapist at my practice, Reframing Realities. We focus on self-discovery and also marriage work.”
Her voice was calm and genuine like she actually enjoyed her work.
“I know there’s a stigma around therapy,” she said, looking at us both, “but I want you both to know I’m not a therapist with a perfect story.
I’ve lived through marriage, infidelity, grief, abandonment, rebuilding…
new love. All of it. So when I speak, I’m speaking from experience just as much as education. ”
My chest loosened just a little. I told myself maybe she understood broken things.
“I normally don’t do same-day house calls,” she added with a small laugh. “But Coffee sends clients to me all the time virtually, and anything for a friend that keeps my business flourishing. I’m a mom of two, so I needed the little road trip for my mental anyway.”
Ok, so she’s a mom. Another good sign.
It didn’t surprise me that Coffee set everything up. She always moved mountains when she decided something mattered.
“I’ve worked with marriages for over thirteen years,” Sydnee continued. “It’s my foundation, even though I stepped away from full-time couples work for a while.”
She looked between us.
“I want you both to understand something. You don’t need to be nervous and you don’t need to hide anything. This is where repair begins…. If it doesn’t start here… it usually ends wherever it stops functioning properly.”
She was right. We were sitting at a crossroads neither of us ever imagined reaching.
She smiled again, trying to lighten the heaviness in the room. “Coffee told me you two have been together since your teenage years.”
Kairo nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She leaned back, impressed. “Do you know how rare that is? To actually grow up with someone… build life together from that young and still be sitting beside each other as adults?”
Her eyes scanned our home. “And by the looks of it,” she added, “you two have created something beautiful together.”
Kairo let out a dry laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s the problem.”
My head snapped toward him. Huh? Sydnee crossed her legs slowly, clearly intrigued rather than alarmed.
“Hm,” she said gently. “Do you care to unpack that?”
Kairo leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
For a moment, he just stared at the floor.
And I realized something terrifying.
I had no idea what he was about to say.
Not anymore.
The man I once knew without words now felt unpredictable… unfamiliar… distant.
He exhaled deeply.
“We built a perfect life,” he said quietly. “A perfect image. Perfect house. Perfect kid. Perfect success.”
He paused.
“But somewhere along the way… we stopped being perfect for each other.”
Sydnee nodded slowly. “That’s very honest,” she said. “Khloe… how does it feel hearing him say that?”
Every instinct in me wanted to deflect.
I folded my hands together to keep them from shaking. “It feels…true.”
My eyes burned. “We look good on paper,” I admitted. “But I’ve felt alone for years.”
Kairo’s head lifted. “And I don’t think he knew how lonely I was.”
She set her pen down. “So let’s start at the beginning. Khloe… when did you first start feeling unseen?”
When did you first start feeling unseen?
For a moment, I stared at my hands because it felt like opening a door I had kept locked even from myself.
“I think…” I started slowly, “…I first felt unseen when I started law school.”
“Our daughter was born while I was still in undergrad,” I continued. “So balancing school and motherhood wasn’t terrible then. I could afford to not study as much and still pass. But law school wasn’t like that.”
I shook my head slightly, remembering. “Law school demanded everything. Every hour and every piece of my brain.”
I looked at Kairo. “You were the only one working full time then. I couldn’t expect you to do more while I studied since you were already carrying us financially. So we hired a nanny.”
“I remember feeling relieved… and ashamed at the same time. Because if I wasn’t in class, I was studying. If I wasn’t studying, I was trying to get a nap.”
My voice cracked. “I felt like a horrible mother.”
My eyes watered as memories flooded back. “There were days my daughter would run to the nanny before she ran to me. I knew we needed the help, but I didn’t want my child thinking that was her mom.”
I wiped at my eye quickly. “So I cut the nanny’s hours.”
“I sacrificed sleep instead,” I said. “I stayed up later. Woke up earlier. Forced myself to be more present even when I was exhausted. I used to cry in the shower trying to wake myself up.”
I exhaled, slowly looking at Kairo. “And you never noticed.”
“That was the first time I really felt unseen,” I admitted. “I was managing so much — mentally, emotionally, physically — and some nights I just wanted you to look at me and say… I see you trying and one day it will all pay off.”
Kairo stared at me. “I had no clue.” His voice held genuine shock. “I swear to God, Khloe… I didn’t know.”
He rubbed his hands together. “I used to offer to ask my parents for help all the time,” he added. “And every time you said no.”
“I thought…” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I thought you didn’t trust my family with our child.”
My head snapped toward him. “What?”
“It hurt them,” he said. “And it hurt me too. They would ask why they couldn’t help with Kennedi. My mom, my brothers… Everybody wanted to be involved. And I kept having to explain it away. I’d tell them stories about how you had her on a routine and that you had separation anxiety.”
He looked down. “But honestly… I didn’t know why you wouldn’t let them in.”
Tears blurred my vision. “No one ever told me that,” I whispered. “Nobody said they felt that way.”
Kairo shook his head. “I never told you because every time I looked at you, you were juggling a thousand things. You looked overwhelmed already. So I just… made up stories when they asked. I tried to protect you from feeling pressured.”
“This,” Sydnee said. “is a perfect example of how disconnection happens without bad intentions. Khloe, you were drowning silently, hoping to be noticed. And Kairo was respecting boundaries he believed his wife needed… while quietly absorbing hurt from his family.”
Sydnee looked directly at me. “Khloe, as Black women, we have to be released from the shackles of believing we don’t need help.We hate asking for help. We hate appearing like we might need assistance, especially with something as sacred and heavy as motherhood.”
She placed her hand against her chest. “And I say we because I struggle with this too.”
Her honesty caught me off guard.
“I have an amazing relationship with my parents now,” she went on, “and my in-laws are even better. But even still, I will run myself into the ground before I allow them to think I’m anything less than a great mother to their grandchildren.”
“By the time I realize I’m exhausted… I’m mentally not even the best version of myself for my kids. It really does take a village,” she said. “And somewhere along the way, we redefined strength as doing everything alone.”
“I hate to reach back into painful history, but even during slavery — those house mothers, aunties, elders… they cared for all the children. Community survival depended on shared responsibility. We are trying to prove we’re strong Black women in spaces we were never meant to carry alone.”
Tears slid down my face. “I found out I was pregnant the day of our high school graduation. Abortion never crossed my mind. Not once. I knew what Kairo and I shared. Even back then. I wanted a life with him, but I was terrified.”
I wiped my cheek. “We told his family before we even told mine.”