42. Violation of Trust
Alexander
I had never been to therapy before.
In my world, you deal with problems by working harder, by stacking goals, pushing forward at all costs. You don’t sit across from a stranger and talk about your feelings.
I expected vague advice. Kind but empty generalities. But from the very first session, I understood how much a competent professional could help me move forward. Not faster, but better. Deeper.
Dr. Lebrun’s office is in the seventh arrondissement, on the third floor of a discreet Haussmann building. Nothing ostentatious. The waiting room is understated, almost bare: a few psychology books, a green plant, soft lighting.
When she opens the door, her presence strikes me immediately.
A woman in her fifties, short gray hair, a simple sweater, black-framed glasses. But it’s her eyes that unsettle me—attentive, precise, as if she already knows how to pinpoint the blind spots I’ve been avoiding for years.
“Alexander Delaunay? Please, come in.”
I sit in an armchair facing her. No couch. Two chairs at equal height. A coffee table. A box of tissues. And that calm, benevolent gaze that makes me strangely uncomfortable.
“What brings you here?” she asks simply.
The words hesitate, then spill out in disarray.
Kristel. The affair. Sam. The IPO. The explosion in front of the school.
I speak quickly, as if I’m still trying to control the narrative.
When I finish, she remains silent for a few seconds. Then she says:
“Infidelity is a profound violation of trust. It’s perfectly normal to feel pain, anger, sometimes even shame afterward. Don’t try to minimize what you felt.”
She pauses.
“But there’s one essential thing you need to understand: the fact that Kristel cheated on you had nothing to do with your value as a man. It wasn’t personal.”
Her words leave me perplexed. A nervous laugh escapes me.
“It feels extremely personal.”
She offers a calm smile, as if she expected that exact reaction.
“People who are unfaithful don’t cheat because their partner is insufficient. They cheat because something is broken inside them—a constant need for validation, a fear of intimacy, emotional immaturity.
“You could have been the most perfect man in the world, and Kristel still would have cheated. Because the problem was in her, not in you.”
I tense.
“Don’t try to understand why she did it,” she adds. “That search often becomes obsessive. Refocus on what belongs to you.”
She gives me time to absorb it.
It wasn’t me. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it.
That realization lifts a weight I didn’t even realize I’d been carrying. All the questions I’d been replaying suddenly feel pointless.
“All right,” she continues. “Now I’m going to tell you something that will be harder to hear.
“Despite what she did, Kristel did not steal your ability to trust.”
I frown.
“You’re the one who chose—unconsciously—to let that wound define your relationship with Sam.”
I want to protest, but she goes on, without harshness.
“It’s normal to be afraid after betrayal. But your fear cannot dictate your behavior. Otherwise, Kristel wins. She doesn’t just destroy her relationship with you—she destroys all your future relationships as well. Is that really the power you want to give her?”
The question hits me square in the chest.
“What do I need to do to take that power back?” I finally ask.
“Start by refocusing on yourself. On your needs. On what you truly expect from a relationship.”
What I expect from a relationship…
Sam’s face immediately comes to mind.
Our conversations. Our laughter. The obvious connection between us.
Trust. Presence.
“Before we end today’s session,” she says, “I’m going to ask you something that will probably irritate you. I want you to find three things you can be grateful to Kristel for.”
“Nothing,” I say without hesitation.
“I’m serious,” she insists. “It’s called cognitive reframing. We’re not saying what she did was good. We’re looking for what this experience taught you or brought you.”
I think despite myself.
“If she hadn’t cheated on me, I would have married her and I would have been unhappy with someone who wasn’t right for me.
It also forced me to look at my own flaws—to realize I was prioritizing my career over my personal life.
Without her betrayal… I never would have asked Sam to be my fake fiancée.
Neither of us would have dared take a step toward each other, despite the obvious connection between us. ”
She nods slowly.
“Exactly. Kristel no longer defines your story. She’s part of it, yes, but she is no longer the final chapter.”