CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jessica
The couples therapist had tissues placed within easy reach of both chairs.
Jessica distrusted this immediately. Dr. Madeline Ward was in her mid-forties, wore tortoiseshell glasses, and had the unnerving calm of someone who probably watched people destroy each other emotionally before lunch and still remembered to water her plants.
Jessica sat on one end of a sofa. Alex sat on the other.The space between them was deliberate. It was a space just big enough that nobody would mistake it for intimate.
Dr. Ward looked from one to the other. “What would make this session useful?”
Alex glanced at Jessica. He didn't answer for her. He was getting better.
Jessica folded her hands. “I want to know whether what changed is real.”
Dr. Ward nodded. “What’s changed?”
Jessica looked at Alex and answered. “He listens more.”
“That sounds tentative.”
“It is.”
Dr. Ward smiled faintly. “What else?”
“He asks fewer questions when I’m afraid.”
Alex’s jaw tightened.
Jessica continued.“I know that sounds backwards.”
“Not necessarily.”
“He used to ask questions because he was deciding whether what I felt was justified.”
Alex looked down.
“He doesn’t do that now.”
Dr. Ward turned to Alex. “Do you agree with her characterization?”
“Yes.”
Jessica glanced at him.
Dr. Ward said, “Tell me what you think you were doing.”
Alex rested his forearms against his thighs. “I thought I was gathering information.”
“And now?”
“I was asking her to prove that the situation deserved my attention.”
The accuracy of the answer still hurt. Jessica looked toward the window.
Dr. Ward let the silence remain. Eventually she asked, “What do you still not believe?”
Jessica looked at her.
“About Alex,” Dr, Ward clarified
“I believe he’s sorry.”
Alex’s gaze moved to her.
“I believe he understands more than he did.”
“What don’t you believe?”
Jessica swallowed. “That it won’t happen again.”
Alex remained silent.
Dr. Ward looked at him. “What would you like to say?”
Alex shook his head.“Nothing.”
Jessica frowned. “Nothing?”
“I can’t promise that I’ll never fail you again.”
The answer stung.
Alex continued. “I can promise I won’t make fear something you have to justify. But I don’t think saying I’ll never hurt you again would mean anything.”
Jessica looked at her hands.
Dr. Ward asked, “What happens inside you when he says that?”
“I want him to promise.”
Alex closed his eyes briefly.
Jessica’s voice broke. “I want the stupid impossible promise.”
Dr. Ward nodded. “Because?”
“Because I already believed him once.”
Jessica looked at Alex. Eleven years ago.The library. His hands around hers. You will never have to face the worst day alone.
Alex’s eyes were wet.
Jessica hated that she loved him.
Hated that love remained the easiest part.
“I keep hearing our vows,” she said.
Alex swallowed.“Me too.”
“You promised.”
“I know.”
“No.”Her voice sharpened. “You promised me specifically.”
“Yes.”
“That I wouldn’t face the worst day alone.”
Alex looked at her.
Jessica’s lungs tightened. “And I did.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
The calm acceptance made anger surge.
“Why?”
Dr. Ward didn't interrupt.
Jessica leaned forward.
“Why did I have to nearly die before you learned how to stay?”
Alex flinched.
Good. She wanted the question to hurt. She had carried it through surgery. Through the NICU. Through nights in Natalie’s guest room. Through every session Alex attended and every careful thing he did afterward. Why had her suffering been the payment for his growth?
Alex looked at the floor.
Jessica waited.
When he spoke, his voice was rough. “You shouldn’t have.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
He looked at her.“I can explain how I became that man.”
Jessica’s chest tightened.
“My father. Daniel. Watching my mother become frightened of everything after he died. Learning that fear was something you managed instead of something you sat beside.” Alex shook his head. “But none of that answers why you had to suffer for me to see it.”
His eyes filled. “You shouldn’t have had to.I hate who I was that night.”
His voice shook. “But if I spend the rest of my life hating him instead of understanding exact ly how I became him, then I’m just waiting to become him again.”
The anger in Jessica faltered.
Dr. Ward watched them both.
Jessica wiped her cheek. “Do you hate him?” she asked.
Alex knew who she meant.The version of himself who stayed at the ceremony. “No.”
Her brows drew together.
Alex looked down. “I did.”
“Why not now?”
“Because hate made it too easy to pretend he was somebody else.”
Jessica stopped breathing for a second.
Alex’s gaze returned to hers. “He was me.”
No excuse.No division. No attempt to exile the worst version of himself so the better one could claim innocence.
Jessica looked away. Her throat hurt.
Dr. Ward gave them several quiet seconds.
Then she asked Jessica, “What do you believe about yourself in the marriage?”
The question caught her off guard.
“What?”
“You’ve spent much of this session describing Alex’s behavior. What did you learn about yourself during those eleven years?”
Jessica looked at Alex.
He seemed equally surprised.
She rubbed her hands together. “I don’t know.”
Dr. Ward waited.
“I learned how to be easy.”
Alex went completely quiet.
Jessica looked toward the floor. “My mother was sick a lot when I was growing up. My parents were always worried about money. Natalie was older. She fought. I didn’t.”
Her eyes filled again.“I was the child who was fine.”
Dr. Ward nodded.
“And in your marriage?”
“I thought I had stopped doing that.” Jessica laughed bitterly. “I married Alex because I could need him.”
Alex’s face crumpled slightly.
She continued. “But somewhere during the pregnancy I started becoming easy again.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I wasn’t, he looked tired.”
Alex closed his eyes.
Jessica watched him. “You don’t get to fall apart now.”
His eyes opened. “I know.”
“You’re allowed to feel bad, but I’m not taking care of you because you feel bad about what you did to me.”
“I know.”
This time the words were steady. No demand.
Jessica breathed.
Dr. Ward said, “What would trying look like?”
Neither answered immediately. Alex glanced toward Jessica. She knew he would let her speak first. Part of her was tired of being first.
“What do you think?” she asked him.
Surprise crossed his face. Alex thought before answering. “Not moving home.”
Jessica blinked.
He continued. “Not pretending everything is fixed because we’re in counseling. I think we keep separate spaces.”
“Okay.”
“We keep the parenting schedule.”
“Yes.”
“I stay in individual therapy.”
“Yes.”
“We come here.”
“If you survive.”
Dr. Ward smiled.
Alex almost did. “And we spend time together that isn’t about Sophia.”
Jessica’s pulse shifted. “Dates?”
“Maybe eventually.”
“What’s before that?”
“Coffee.”
She smiled. “We already do coffee.”
“Then longer coffee.”
“That’s ambitious.”
Alex looked at her. “I’m trying to pace myself.”
Something inside Jessica softened.
Dr. Ward asked, “Would that feel safe enough to begin?”
Safe. The word had become complicated. Jessica looked at Alex.
He had come when Natalie called. He had sat beside her without telling her everything was fine.
He had left the presentation without hesitation.
He hadn't told her until Graham accidentally did .
One correct choice didn't er ase the hospital but it was a start.
“I think so.”
Alex’s shoulders lowered.
Dr. Ward looked at Jessica.
“Think so?”
Jessica inhaled. “Yes.”
After the session, neither wanted to go home immediately. Alex suggested coffee. Jessica suggested walking. It was cold enough that walking seemed foolish. They did it anyway.
The river was gray beneath the winter sky. Alex wore a dark coat. Jessica had forgotten gloves. Naturally. They walked several blocks before Alex noticed her rubbing her hands together. He removed his gloves.
She looked at them.“You need them.”
“You’re cold.”
“So are you.”
“I have pockets.”
He held the gloves out.
She took one.
“One?”
“I’m experimenting.”
“With asymmetrical frostbite?”
“Trust the process.”
Alex put the remaining glove back on.
They kept walking. Jessica slid her bare hand into her coat pocket. For another block she thought about the therapy session. The letter. The medical scare. The months behind them.The months ahead. Alex didn't ask what she was thinking. She was grateful.Then irritated.
“You can ask.”
He looked over. “What?”
“What I’m thinking.”
“I was trying not to pry.”
“There is such a thing as overcorrection.”
“Excellent. New failure unlocked.”
Jessica laughed. “I’m thinking about what you said.”
“That narrows nothing.”
“About keeping separate places.”
Alex nodded. “I meant it.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you moving home because counseling made us optimistic for forty-five minutes.”
“That is actually reasonable.”
“I’ve had professional help.”
Jessica smiled and looked toward the river.“I spent months thinking that if I stayed away from you, I couldn’t get hurt.”
Alex didn't speak.
“That isn’t true either.”
“No.”
“I’m hurt when I’m away from you.”
His face changed.
“I’m not saying that to make you feel better.”
“I know.”
“Because I still miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
She stopped walking.
Alex took another step before realizing.
Jessica looked at him.“I don’t know how to trust you again.”
His voice was quiet.“I don’t expect you to know.”
“I keep waiting for some moment where I suddenly do.”
“I don’t think there is one.”
“That’s depressing.”
“I’m available for motivational speaking.”
She laughed.
The laugh disappeared quickly.
Alex stepped closer. Not touching. Jessica looked at his bare hand tucked into his coat pocket.
She thought about the hospital waiting room.
His palm open between them. The choice he had left hers.
Jessica took her hand from her pocket. Then reached for him.
Alex looked down. She slid her fingers between his.
His hand closed carefully around hers. Warm despite the cold.
They started walking again. Jessica didn't let go.
At her building, Alex stopped outside the door. Sophia was with Natalie for another hour. The apartment upstairs was empty. The knowledge hung between them. Jessica could feel the pull.Alex could too.
“Thank you for today,” he said.
“For therapy?”
“For asking me.”
“I didn’t exactly invite you to dinner.”
“Standards have shifted.”
Jessica looked at him.
Snow from several days earlier remained in gray piles near the curb.
City lights had begun coming on. Alex’s face looked older than it had a year ago.
Not physically older exactly. Less certain.
Jessica loved him more for the uncertainty than she ever had for the confidence.That felt like growth on both sides.
“I’m willing to try,” she said.
Alex went very quiet.
She squeezed his hand. “I don’t know what trying will turn into.”
“Neither do I.”
“I might still decide I can’t.”
“I know.”
“I might get angry about the hospital again.”
“You will.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I’m occasionally intelligent.”
She smiled. “I’m not promising to move home.”
“I’m not asking.”
“I’m not putting my ring back on, yet.”
Alex’s gaze flicked toward her bare hand. Then returned to her eyes. “Okay.”
Jessica shook her head.“You’ve gotten better at that word.”
His mouth curved. “I’ve been practicing.”
For a second Jessica thought about kissing him. She wanted to. That was enough for tonight. She stepped closer and pressed her forehead against his chest instead.
Alex went still only because he seemed afraid to move too quickly. Then his arms came around her. Slowly.
Jessica closed her eyes. She could hear his heartbeat. He held her without squeezing, without turning the embrace into a claim. She let herself stay there. Not healed. Not certain. Not finished being angry. But no longer pretending love had died because trust had been wounded.
When Jessica finally stepped back, Alex let her go. She opened the building door. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jessi.”
She went inside. At the elevator, Jessica looked back through the glass. Alex was still outside. Not waiting for her to return. Simply standing there for a moment before turning toward the street. Jessica touched the hand he had held.
For months she had thought the only safe choices were leaving or forgiving.
Maybe there was another option. A slower one.
One where Alex didn't ask her to forget what happened.
One where Jessica didn't ask herself to stop loving him.
One where neither of them knew the ending yet.
For the first time, that uncertainty didn't terrify her. It felt like a beginning.