Saturday evening and Lottie is spending the night with Gemma and Anne since I have a date tonight, one that Gemma has annoyingly set up. I have no clue who this person is and no nothing about them except their name is Tom. I wasn’t going to go on this date to start with, but Lottie said and I quote ‘you need a night out and I’ve heard Gemma and Anne talk about Tom a lot and he’s nice. Please go out’ I think she just wanted to have a sleepover with Gem and Anne because Gem offered to have Lottie for the night
“Your pretty mum” I look at Lottie through the mirror, dressed in her Sleeping Beauty pyjamas and holding her teddy
“Thank you” I smile now picking up my perfume and spraying it
“Tom will think so too” she giggles clutching her teddy bear
“Hmm. Right are you ready for your sleepover?”
“Yes!” Lottie shouts running into her bedroom to get her overnight bag.
We then head next door, Gemma excitedly answers wearing her matching pyjamas
“Bye mum have fun” Lottie walks into Anne’s house laughing. Gemma also has a smirk on her face
“Bye then Lotts” I wave
“Have a good night Lizzie, enjoy yourself” Gemma then closes the door, but I can still hear Lottie and Gemma giggling. Poor Anne, from those giggles I can only imagine what they’re up to tonight.
I call a taxi to take me to the restaurant I’m supposed to be meeting Tom at. If I had Toms number I probably would have text him by now to say I wasn’t very well, but Gemma kept his number from me and I don’t want to be one of those people who stands someone up, so I’m forcing myself on this date that I really don’t want to go on. Arriving at the restaurant I walk to the seating desk
“Hi I have a reservation under the name Gemma Styles?”
“Ahhh yes follow me, your date has already arrived” great I can’t even order myself a drink before he arrives. I follow the lady to a table at the back. He’s sat facing away from me. I take a deep breath as I approach and…. you’ve got to be kidding me. The waitress then leaves us alone
“Harry?” I frown confused
“Lizzie? What are you doing here?” he also looks confused. The it clicks, all the giggling makes sense and it must have clicked for him as well because at the exact same time we say
“Gemma”
“I’m sorry Harry I think my daughter and your sister have been concocting some plan. I’ll call us a taxi and we can just head back home” I begin to take my phone out my bag when Harry stops me
“We may as well order something to eat. We’re here now. Come sit” he stands up and walks to the other chair pulling it out for me “nothing has to happen. We can just chat then I’ll drive you back”
“Ok why not” I give in and sit in the seat. Harry goes back to his and sits down
“Can I get you any drinks?” the waitress from before comes over
“I’ll have a Diet Coke. Lizzie?”
“Erm I’ll have the same thank you”
“Ok I’ll be right back with your drinks” the waitress smiles at us before leaving the table once again
“I really am sorry Harry about this”
“Don’t be. My sister’s been trying to set me up with her friends for years. Thinks I’m lonely” Harry laughs making me giggle
“Gemma says the same to me, although I have to admit this is the first one I’ve agreed to that she set up”
“Why’s that?”
“Oh just Lottie is priority not going on dates so I always say no, plus it will just end how it always does”
“But you have been on dates recently haven’t you?” I sigh at Harry’s question
“Yeah, but as soon at they find out I have a child they ghost me. Actually I think this is the longest date I’ve had so far when the guy knows I have a daughter”
“But we haven’t even ordered food yet?”
“Honestly I don’t know why I bother anymore”
“They all sound like idiots. You and Lottie definitely deserve better”
“Thanks Harry”
Dinner goes well, it’s weird how comfortable I am with Harry already after knowing him for only 2 weeks. He’s sweet and is genuinely interested in what I have to say. He also asked a lot about Lottie. He’s just pulled outside Anne’s; we get out the car and he walks me to my front door
“You didn’t have to walk me to the door. I’m only next door”
“Just got to make sure you get in safely. What are you going to do now since Lottie is staying over at mums?”
“Honestly? I never get a quiet bath where I can do a face mask and read” Harry laughs shanking his head
“Fair enough. I had a good time tonight, maybe we could go out for coffee one of the days? Or if not coffee since you’re probably sick of it having a cafe maybe we could go out for dinner again?”
“I’d like that. We can work out the details soon” I say unlocking the door
“Goodnight Lizzie” Harry places a kiss on my cheek which sends my heart soaring
“Night Harry” I walk into my house and close the door feeling giddy like a school girl who’s just spoken to her crush.
I kept my eyes on the road, one hand anchored on the steering wheel. My temples pounded with a familiar painful pressure and I’m sick to my stomach with a cocktail of embarrassment, regret and a disagreeable pastrami sandwich.
I dare not glance over at Chastity sat sulking in the passenger's seat, arms crossed as she stared out the window. Neither of us had spoken a word since we’d left the restaurant, afraid of speaking into existence what we both already knew.
We royally bombed our capital raising presentation and lost a very lucrative account.
I was gutted. As long as I’d been working for the firm, I’d never lost an account. I went out of my way to accommodate potential clients, fulfilling any request-as long as they were ethical- and turning the charm on max.
I’d spent a week of late nights in the office perfecting the pitchbook, and I’d been proper confident about it, but that was before I saw River.
I always thought the old adage of absence making the heart grow fonder was a load of bullocks. Me and Riv had never had a reason to be apart for more than a few days before, but since she'd left me, I found I craved her more than anything.
It was almost like seeing her for the first time all over again.
She looked so fucking beautiful sat at that table- cheeks flushed with a rosy glow, rays of sunlight catching the flecks of autumn amber and spring green in her eyes, petal-soft, pillowy lips I missed kissing that pulled into a smile every time Hannah said something humorous, and belly adorably round with our son.
She was so close yet half the world away. My brain instantly turned to mush, and I knew it was very unprofessional, but I couldn't waste the opportunity to capture River’s attention.
After making a complete fool of myself in front of Riv and her mum, I decided it was best to stop initiating any contact between the two of us. I was way too embarrassed to come crawling back with my tail between my legs, and I couldn't come up with a good enough excuse other than being drunk and needy for why I'd acted so horribly.
I didn't care so much if I'd fallen out of favor with River’s mum; it wouldn't matter in the long run if we ultimately divorced, but I did care a lot about what River thought. Watching her turn away from me as if I would hurt her was painful.
I was a proper jerk, yes, but I'd never, ever purposely harm her.
This project had been a convenient distraction from the misery I felt from being alone, and I could only hope that putting more distance between us could help patch things up. After our unexpected lunch run-in, I wasn't so hopeful anymore.
I didn't understand why River was hellbent on making things so bloody complicated. I was slowly acknowledging where I went wrong and apologising- which I admit is not easy for me- but I wasn’t getting any credit for it. I suppose my usual method of getting off easy with my most sincere sorries, a bouquet of flowers, and a good shag session was growing old.
She was going to make me work for it, and I wasn’t very thrilled with her proposition.
I made it very clear to Riv that I wasn’t interested in attending therapy when she first brought it up. I hated the idea of sitting on a nasty leather couch and spilling all the intimate, vulnerable details of our marriage while a stranger psychoanalysed my every move and word.
It was bad enough that she'd gone behind my back to do therapy on her own, but now she was dragging me into it and not giving me a choice.
I love River and I want to be in her and our son's life, but I don't think it's fair that the future of our relationship was riding on whether or not I agreed to seek therapy. It seemed like such a reasonable, fair deal on paper, but it just wasn't that easy.
I already struggled with being open and vocal about my feelings with my own wife-I could never do that with a stranger- but what scared me the most was the idea that therapy could shift Riv's perception of me for the worse.
Going to therapy meant putting all my flaws under a magnifying glass, and I wasn’t sure if either of us would like what was revealed. What if her shrink got too far in her head and turned her against me? I would never admit it out loud, but I was terrified that therapy would make Riv realize what a failure of a husband I was and leave me for good. I could only see therapy destroying our marriage rather than improving it.
“Let’s not kid ourselves, H,” Chas sighs. “That was abysmal. I should have studied the pitch book more thoroughly.”
I gently hit the brakes as the traffic light turns red.
“S’ my fault,” I reply, pinching my bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have gotten up in the middle of the presentation. We're a team. I shouldn't have left you hangin’. M’ sorry,”
Chastity tears her gaze away from the window, flashing a sympathetic smile.
“That was River, wasn't it? She's stunning. You're a lucky man, H.”
I let out a sardonic chuckle, sinking my knuckles into the steering wheel.
Every now and then, the sunlight would bounce off my wedding band, and while it'd normally feel weightless on my finger, lately it feels like it weighs a ton. I wasn't a lucky man- I was a stupid one.
“I haven't seen or talked to her in like a fortnight . I fucked up massively showin’ up to her mum's place drunk, and I had to take the opportunity to apologize,”
The light turns green, and she shifts in her seat.
“I'm guessing it didn't go well?” Chas winces. “I could almost taste the tension. I felt bad interrupting you two,”
“She wants me to go to therapy,” I grumble, jaw clenching. “She’s not even givin’ me a choice. If I don’t go to therapy, it’s over for us,”
It was the whole thing that made me bomb the presentation.
To be fair, it was a bit of a dick move to even mention Riv attending therapy. If I'd shut my gob in the first place, this wouldn’t even be a thing, but it was truly all her fault.
I didn’t like being strong-armed into situations against my will, and there was no chance to rebut her. I’d already been away from the meeting for too long, and I didn’t have a moment to get my emotions in check before I returned to our clients.
It put my whole mood and concentration off.
“Well, your decision should be easy, right?”
I sigh, trying hard not to glare at Chastity.
“ I don’t wanna go to therapy. ‘S just a load of bullocks- payin’ hundreds of dollars to sit on a couch and talk to some stranger only to get overpriced, oversimplified solutions to our problems and then create more of ‘em with all their psychoanalysis babble,”
A soft chuckle escapes Chas, her gaze flickering from the traffic outside the window to me as she twirls the end of a ringlet around her finger.
“I get it, opening up can be hard sometimes,” She begins. “But I don’t think River’s asking for much. A couple of therapy sessions could really transform you guys’s relationship and emotionally prepare you for the baby. You love her, don’t you?”
“ Course I do,” I reply, growing annoyed. “ ‘M jus’ not interested in therapy,”
One of the things I liked about being around Chas was that she often validated my thoughts and opinions. Most of what I said was worth my weight in gold to her. It used to be that way with River- in the beginning, when things were new and exciting-but after years of being together, nothing I did seemed to impress her anymore.
A man needs his ego stroked from time to time, but whenever I brought up River, Chastity agreed with almost nothing I said.
“Well, when you love someone, you make sacrifices- you do things you don’t want to do, things that make you uncomfortable because you just wanna be with them,”
Yeah, yeah. I'd heard all the sappy, saccharine bullshit about giving up comfort and dreams for love and honesty; I'd done that. I relocated to North Carolina when Riv got home sick and wanted to be closer to her mum, passing up job opportunities at some of the country's best firms and now we were about to welcome a baby I wasn't exactly consulted on the conception of.
Therapy was just something I wasn't interested in. Even Meatloaf had limitations on what he'd do for love.
If River could have boundaries, I should be allowed to have them too. She claimed that I always made everything about myself but everything about this bloody separation seemed to be about what she wanted. I didn't see her making sacrifices for me.
“I wanna be with her,” I sigh, desperately. “I really wanna be with her but I- I jus’ can't. ‘M too busy. She's already seein’ someone by herself. Why does she need me to go too?”
In my peripheral vision, I see Chastity burning a hole through my skull with her famous fiery glare. I wish we could just drop the subject and move on.
“You can't be serious, H,” She scoffs. “I can't believe you're actually fucking serious. You'd rather give up your marriage- lose your family- because you're too prideful to go to therapy? This isn't about being too busy or not being interested, you're scared,”
I swallow deeply before coming to a rolling stop at the stop sign, eyebrows furrowing.
“What'd ya mean ‘M scared? I haven't got latrophobia,”
Chas rolls her eyes, and I feel a sense of relief noticing that we're getting closer to the bank.
“You’re scared that if the two go to therapy, it will spotlight all your flaws and River will see you differently,”
Bloody hell, she's spot on. Why do women have to be so scarily intuitive?
“No,” I replied too quickly. “Nope. That's not it at all. That's bizarre,"
“What's bizarre is you, H," she scoffs. “She already knows and accepts the fact that you're not perfect but she's willing to work through your flaws. If you can't get over yourself and put aside your pride for a few therapy sessions then you really don't deserve her at all,”
Chastity’s words physically sting, permeating the space between us like a bad tattoo. I know she’s right and the idea of losing Riv makes me feel physically sick but then again so does sitting down in front of a therapist and revealing the most intimate details of my marriage.
I wish this was the easy, no-brainer decision Chas made it out to be but for me,it's not. I guess my ego was just too big and my pride too precious.
Chasity ignores me for the rest of the ride, and as soon as we get back to the bank, I retreat to my office. I needed a moment alone to have a proper strop about the lost account and my potentially lost marriage. I tried immersing myself in some market research, but I only ended up getting a headache, and I couldn't concentrate- my mind kept drifting to River.
I missed her so damn much. I missed the weird squat she made every time I had to help her up from the sofa since her belly had grown. I missed talking to her bump when we'd lie in bed together. I missed the delight of tracing shapes along the curves and edges of her belly, knowing life was growing under my fingertips.
Our marriage wasn't perfect, and the baby was totally unplanned, but we'd had some good moments between us lately. It was insane she was willing to throw that away-all the years we'd spent together and all the memories we'd made- all over a couple of therapy sessions.
Feeling like I could jump out of my skin, I absentmindedly flip through a copy of Financial Times when my office door creeks open.
“Styles, you free for a word?”
Bergen steps into view, and I swallow, trying to mentally prepare myself to be reprimanded for fumbling the account.
My day couldn't get any worse; might as well end it with a bang.
“Sure,” I reply whilst tossing the magazine on my desk. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“I heard back from the agency,” he starts, adjusting his cufflinks, and he settles into one of the vinyl chairs in front of my desk. “They pulled out. What happened? You never miss.”
A blanket of silence falls over us, and I sigh, running a hand through my hair.
“I don't- I don't know. I thought we made a connection,”
Bergen's aged grey eyes squint at me, his hand anchored beneath his chin in deep thought. My hands grow clammy, and I swear I'm about to get sacked. Maybe River would like that. If I lost my job, maybe it could save our relationship.
Who am I kidding? I'd go crazy without my work.
“Somethin’ is different about you lately, son. I can't put my finger on it. You're one of my most productive employees. You can't be bored. Everything alright with your wife and baby- River, isn't it?”
I rub the back of my neck, muddled that he'd even mention River. There was no way I was about to discuss my fucked up relationship status with my boss. I'd much rather be discussing a promotion.
“They're fine,” I responded. “Baby's healthy. It's a boy,”
His creased lips curve into a small grin.
“And River?” Bergen presses.
I lean back further in my chair, trying not to get annoyed.
“Fine,”
My boss's eyes sweep across my office as if he's looking for something, and I wish he'd wrap up this interaction so I can get back to sulking.
“Y'know, you can tell a lot about a person by their office. Your desk and walls are bare- ya haven't got a single family picture,”
I grab a pen off my desk, clicking it nervously.
“ ‘M a minimalist,” I shrug, “And with all due respect ,sir, ‘M not sure how my office set up is relevant to how well I do my job,”
He crosses a leg over his knee, smile returning.
“ It’s very relevant. Duty to family is just as important at this firm as business. I've always thought a happy home life boosts the quality of work produced- always has for me. That's why I couldn't help but overhear your banter in the break room with Keaton a couple weeks back,”
For fucks sake, it was just a joke. First, Chastity gives me a moral lecture, and now Bergen. God forbid a man cracks a joke in the workplace every once in a while.
“It was a joke. Everything's fine now.”
I was lying through my teeth, but I hope he takes the bait and leaves me alone.
Bergen rises from his chair, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Good,” he smiles. “Then I expect you'll bring River with you to my house next Saturday? Me and Sarabeth are celebratin’ forty years of marriage, and we'd love to have you two there,”
Fuck, I shouldn't have said anything. There was no way I could convince Riv to go to a party with me when we were hardly on speaking terms.
“F-forty years, that's incredible, innit?” I stammer, pressing down so hard on the pen I fear it might break, “Sure, I'll be there,”
Seemingly satisfied, he nods, and I let out a deep breath once he strolls to the door.
“And River?”
Bergen's bushy brows raise in anticipation of my answer. I'm pretty certain he sees right through my bullshit and insists on making me sweat.
“I'll try to get ‘er outta of the house. She's six months in- startin’ ‘t get tired all the time,”
“You two should get out much as you can before the baby comes,” He chuckles. “Trust me, you'll miss it when your weekends are consumed with diaper duty,”
If I'm lucky, I'll be spending my weekends changing diapers, but at this rate, I'll only be sending them alone.
I forced a chuckle.
“Well, thanks for the invite, sir,”
“You're welcome, son. Tell River I said hello,”
The door closes with a click, and I let out a groan.
How the hell am I going to cover my ass on this one?
***
I was a walking ball of frustration for the rest of the day, and for the first time since I've been separated from Riv I actually look forward to going home.
I absolutely hated being in our house all alone, but I'd gotten used to it. I'd developed a bit of a routine: Get home, shower, make a pathetic carb-heavy bachelor dinner of beans on toast, or a jacket potato if I was feeling adventurous, and veg out in front of the telly until I fell asleep.
But today I needed to blow off some steam- in a positive way. I'd learned my lesson getting shit-faced and embarrassing myself in front of River and her mum, so I decided to go for a run.
Work kept me so busy, I hardly ever had time for exercise. When we lived in New York, I was an avid runner. I'd get up at the crack of dawn to beat the morning traffic and get in a jog at Central Park. River worked late dinner shifts at the restaurant, so I always tried my hardest not to wake her.
Riv was never a fan of cardio- Pilates has always been more her speed- but on weekends or a rare day off, she'd get up and go along with me, cheering me on with a thermos of homemade hot chocolate when the weather got chilly.
Everything was so good between us in New York. Sure, we had arguments sometimes, but we remained close. It wasn't until we moved to a small town that we grew apart.
It felt so good to run again. The rush of endorphins zapped the stress of the day from my body ,and for once, my mind was clear ,and I didn't have to feel so shitty.
I circled the neighborhood about four times before I ran out of steam and the sun had started to set. I'm not in my 20s anymore ,and I'd forgotten how brutal running could be on the knees. Feeling old and achy,I trudged up the stairs for a hot shower to hopefully soothe my joints.
Our bedroom could use a bit of tidying up. I hadn't bothered to put any of me trousers in the hamper, and I still hadn't made the bed.
Seeing the little pillow fort Riv had made on the other side was comforting in a way. With her gone, I needed some proof that she'd once lived here with me.
I took off my trainers and went to the closet to put them away. We only had one closet in the master bedroom, and it was big enough for both of us to house our belongings. River had her side, and I had mine. There were still quite a few clothes on her side- stuff she'd outgrown due to pregnancy, heels she could no longer get her swollen feet in.
I set the trainers on the top shelf and reach for the light switch, but stop short. Instead, I go over to Riv's side, brushing my fingertips along the variety of fabrics.
My favorite black dress on her had been wedged in the very back of the rack. The last time she'd worn it was the night she'd told me she was pregnant. God, I wish I hadn't blown up like that.
The top shelf had been strategically organized with clutches, belts and heels, but something I'd never seen before caught my eye.
It was a leather-bound journal, slightly creased and worn along the spine. I'd never known Riv to be the type to journal unless you count the notebooks of recipes she'd filled over the years. Part of me feels I haven't got any right to peek at what's inside, but my curiosity gets the better of me.
I hate to admit it, but I hadn't had the slightest idea of what was going on in River’s world for years. Maybe this was my chance to get into her head.
Snatching the journal off the shelf, I stroll over to the bed, sinking onto the mattress as I open the cover. A photograph falls into my lap, and a grin tugs at my lips as my thumb traces the edge.
It's a picture of me and Riv at my graduation from Columbia. I'm decked out in my cap and gown, proudly holding my diploma as River kisses my cheek. We were so happy that day. My parents and Gemma had taken a seven-hour non-stop flight to see me walk across the stage, and River had stayed up late the night before cooking a big feast to invite all my friends over to our flat to celebrate.
My mates patted my back in approval, gushing about how lucky I was to have an amazingly hot and awesome girlfriend. I watched Riv from across the room, beaming with pride as she entertained our guest, and I agreed; I was so damn lucky.
It's funny how those mundane moments pass and you think nothing of it- feeling invincible, thinking the good times will always last. Then years go by, it's a distant memory etched in your brain that you reach for on a bad day.
I set the photograph on my night table and thumb through the journal, River’s neat penmanship swirling across the pages. There's a little note from about five years ago that Riv had scribbled to herself a little note about a day we'd spent at Brighton Beach, rambling about hot dogs and kisses under the pier framed by girlishly sketched hearts.
I continued to flip through,finding more little passages about our adventures together, a stupid joke I told at the dinner table that River found absolutely hilarious, how thrilled she'd gotten when I stopped by the kitchen one evening with a bouquet of flowers before her dinner rush shift.
There was truly nothing truly interesting or revealing, but then I stumbled upon a few entries dated three years ago.
We're finally all moved into the new house. I unpacked our last box this morning. It's so good to be back home- close to the beach and close to Mom. But things are…off between me and Harry lately. Something's shifted and I can't put my finger on it. He started a new job at the bank, and with me running the kitchen at the Boardwalk, we barely have time together. His hours run later than I expected- sometimes I've already left for work before he gets home, or we're bumping into each other on my way out the door with hardly a chance for a kiss goodbye. When I get home, he's already asleep, and by the time I'm just stirring in the morning, he's gone. We moved to Carolina Beach so that we could slow down, not having to rush all the time like we did in the city, but I don't feel relaxed. I don't want us to grow apart.
…
I decided to quit my position as head chef at the Boardwalk. It sounds kind of stupid, quitting my dream job so soon, but I'd rather give up my job than let it ruin my marriage. I've been home for a few days now, and Harry and I have barely talked. I decided to make a special dinner tonight- candles, wine, and chocolate mousse, I spent way too long making-hoping I could get him to loosen up and spend some time together. All it took for him to explode was my innocently asking about work, and we spent the rest of dinner in silence. Maybe I'm too sensitive, but it really hurt my feelings. I know I've been busy with the restaurant, and maybe I haven't been there for him the way I should. Maybe he's upset with me, but things will change. I'll find a way to still do what I love while being more present with him.
Jesus, I feel like a proper jerk. All this time I'd assumed River had quit her job because she'd rather have it easy working sporadically, sleeping in and having free afternoons. She’d packed it in because of me- because I was pushing her away and too stupid to realize she wanted to spend time with me.
The passages got increasingly worse, documenting times I’d missed birthdays or picked business trips over romantic anniversary getaways, moments I was cruel with my words. The entries before highlighted silly, mundane aspects of our relationship, but there was a joy to them that was noticeably absent the more recent they got. The tone had shifted to anxious, unconfident self depreciating, and defeated. All my sins were right there, permeated in ink. I couldn’t deny them even if I had no recollection at all of being so horrid.
The very last passage is the most damning of them all, dated nearly three months ago- right about the time Riv announced she was pregnant.
I finally got a chance to go to the doctor after feeling so sick for the past few weeks. The news was not what I hoped for- I’m pregnant. God, I could have sworn Harry and I were being careful. I’ve been keeping up with my pills…. At least I think I have. It was Valentine's Day. I had a bunch of orders. Maybe I forgot to take it. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know if I should be happy or upset. I wouldn’t mind having a baby, but I know Harry’s not gonna be excited. We’ve been distant for years- bringing a baby into the mix would only further complicate things between us. Then he's always gone or busy with work, he wouldn’t even be here for the baby. I’ll be taking care of it all by myself. I've tried everything over the years. I don't see how a surprise baby is going to make him see me. Damnit- I should be happy right now. It's my first baby. Babies are supposed to bring joy, but it feels so wrong when I realize our baby will be stuck with two parents who are unhappy together. People always say that motherhood gives you purpose and companionship, makes you feel less alone. I thought the same thing about marriage, and look how that turned out. I’ll still be alone, I’m just having a baby.
I shut the journal, placing it on the night table with a heavy sigh, feeling like someone had punched me in the gut.
Chastity was right. River was hyper aware of all of my mistakes-she’d been keeping score of nearly every one- but she’d never once thrown it in my face. She’d been so patient, waiting for me to take my head out of my ass long enough to get the idea that we were drifting apart, but I’d only succeeded in pushing her further away.
All this time, I'd been pointing the finger at River, thinking she was the problem. That she asked for too much and appreciated too little, but in reality, it was me. I’d created this problem, and I suppose it was only fair that I figured out how to fix it.
***
“Thank God it’s Friday! I can’t wait to get absolutely wasted tonight,”
Keaton’s drawl carried down the corridor as I unlocked my office door. It was just barely 8 am , and already he was so bloody loud.
I was admittedly cantankerous, having not gotten the best night's sleep. I kept tossing and turning, all the words in River’s journal swirling in my head. I'd never felt like such a shit person, knowing all the agony I'd put River through. It's a wonder she hadn't left sooner than she had.
While I was aware of the massive mess I'd made of our marriage, I didn't know where to start cleaning it up. I could take River’s ultimatum, but the masochist in me thought it was too easy. I still wasn't thrilled about going to therapy. There had to be some way to reach her without seeing a shrink.
My briefcase lands on my desk with a sound thud as I shrug out of my suit jacket. A pair of heels clicks down the corridor, stopping on the threshold of my door. Chastity stands there, dressed casually in a pair of blue jeans and a button blouse, long ringlets pulled back into a ponytail ,and two coffee cups in hand.
“Happy Friday,H,” She smiles as she saunters into the office. “Figured you could use a pick-me-up after yesterday,”
I settled in my chair, blinking my swollen eyes in surprise as she set the paper cup on my desk. I thought we weren’t on speaking terms.
“Cheers,” I grumble, shuffling through my briefcase for my laptop.
There was nothing exciting or relieving about the weekend these days, especially when I was only coming home to the silence of an empty house.
“Looks like you had a rough night.”
“Y’ don’t have to gloat about it.”
A thick, tense silence falls between us, nothing but the crinkling of a mess of papers jammed in my briefcase. Truly, I don't want to take my bad mood out on Chas, but I can't help it. I'm a jerk. It’s not her I’m angry with- it’s myself.
“Look,” Chas sighs, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “I didn't come to rub salt into your wounds. Maybe I've overstepped my boundaries a bit, getting involved in your personal life. You've gotta make the decision that's best for you. I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”
I glance up from rummaging through my things, meeting her brown eyes. I wish it were that easy, but I know it's not.
“Thanks, Chas,” I nod, unable to bring myself to grin.
She smiles, turning to the door before stopping short.
“I was thinking about getting some sushi for lunch, wanna come with?”
I wasn’t exactly in the mood to socialize with anyone today. I was too in my head, too preoccupied with thoughts of River and trying to figure out how the hell I was going to fix this mess.
“No thanks. I’ve got some work to catch up on.”
“Okay,” Chas sighs, one foot out the door that drags behind her. “Don’t be a stranger,”
She closes the door gently as I continue to sort out my laptop. As I shifted more papers around my messy briefcase, I found River’s therapy bill, crumpled up. I most likely stuffed in there in an attempt to avoid the harsh reality that she’d betrayed my wishes. I was sure River wouldn’t even seriously consider talking to me until I took her ultimatum, but maybe I could find a way around it. Maybe I could get a little advice on how to patch things up without having to spill my guts.
I smooth out the wrinkles of the paper, eyeing the office’s telephone number printed in the top left-hand corner. It was probably too early for the office to be open now, so I got an hour of work done before working up the courage to actually call. My mobile feels like a brick in my hand, and I almost hang up before the dial tone cuts short.
“Hello, you've reached Dr. Shayla Evans. How may I help you?” A girlish voice answers.
I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. For fucks sake, Harry, just talk. It's not that hard.
“Hello?”
“ ‘M Harry Styles,” I started slowly. “ ‘Y don't know me, but my wife, River, she sees you. I was hoping you could answer some questions f'r me,”
She hums, and I can't tell if it's in approval or disapproval. I can only imagine all the awful things River’s told her about me.
“Sorry, Harry, but I can't repeat anything your wife has told me,” The doctor responds. “I'm sworn to a Hippocratic oath. But if a little guidance is what you're looking for, my schedule is really flexible today. I'm here until 3 o'clock. You can drop by whenever you like.”
I sigh, defeated. My hands were tied.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks,”
“I’m looking forward to meeting you, Harry. We’ll talk more later.”
The call ends with a click, and I can’t help but feel sick to my stomach. If I don’t go, I’ll look like a controlling creep of a husband trying to get a therapist to violate medical laws because I can’t properly communicate with my wife. If I do go, I’ll be forced to open up. There was no easy out.
The next few hours of work are agonizing, imagining all the worst scenarios of how my first therapy session would turn out. What was I supposed to say without making me sound like the biggest bellend in the world?
Therapy wasn’t something my family normalized, even if we could afford it more than others. Mum indulged in cocktails when she got irritable,and Dad constantly threw himself into work like I did. The closest any of us had gotten to a shrink couch was Gemma disappearing for months at a time to go to expensive spiritual retreats.
I wouldn't even know where to begin.
Unable to handle the torture any longer, I decided to take my lunch break early and head to Dr. Evans's office. I wanna get this over sooner rather than later.
The office is this small little building that looks like it used to be a house- no big sign proudly boasting its status as a psychiatry office. It makes me feel just a little bit better that at least no one will know I’m here, but I still debate turning around and going back to the bank.
But then my mind goes to River, seeing the intensity in her eyes when she told me I’d lose her. If I do lose her, I’d be able to live with myself more knowing that I tried than foolishly let her slip away because I was too prideful. God, I really hope she appreciates this.
Inside, the office is dark and smells heavy with some scent that’s supposed to be relaxing, but I only find it overwhelming. There are lots of fake plants and those hippy-diddy crystals that double as lamps, and I imagine this is what one of Gemma’s spiritual retreats looks like.
“Hi, do you have an appointment?”
A tiny woman in a baby blue pantsuit approaches me with a coffee mug in hand. She sounds just like the woman on the phone.
“ ‘M Harry,” I say, nervously brushing a curl away from my forehead. “I spoke to you on the phone this mornin’,”
“Oh, Harry,” She smiles. “I’m Dr. Evans, but I’m sure you already know that. I’m glad you stopped by. Please, come back,”
Suddenly, the smell of incense is suffocating, and I can feel my defenses building up as I follow her to the back room. I instantly notice that cliche leather sofa you see in all the movies- that goddamn sofa that’s probably incubated hundreds of repressed childhood wounds, marital traumas, and salacious confessions. It almost feels unlucky to sit on but I reckon it’s more comfortable than the faux fur bean bag.
I can’t believe I’ve gotten this far, and it’s way too late to back out now.
“You have a very charming accent, Harry,” Dr. Evans begins as she settles into her own chair. “Where are you from?”
I clasp my hands in between my knees.
“Manchester, England. Look, before we begin, I didn’t come here because I wanted to.”
I hadn’t meant it to come out as rude, but I felt the need to make it known. I didn’t want her to get the idea that this was going to be a regular thing.
“You didn’t?” She raises an eyebrow. “So why did you come?”
I sigh, hesitating to meet her gaze.
“Because she wanted me to,” I retorted. “River wants me to see someone. She says our marriage won’t work if I don’t go to therapy.”
Dr. Evan sets her coffee mug on her desk.
“And how does that make you feel?”
The question is an automatic trigger. This is exactly why I didn’t wanna go to therapy in the first place, just for someone to ask the most pants, generic questions and send me a bill for $500.
“It pisses me off. I don't think s’ fair. I already told her months ago, I didn’t want to go to therapy. But then she left me and decided to go for herself,”
“I take it you and River have had problems for a while now?” She asked.
I scoff and fold my arms before leaning back onto the sofa.
“ ‘M sure you know,” I huff. “She’s gone n’ told you everythin’ about us. Every spicy detail. You must think ‘M the most awful bloke on the planet,”
Dr. Evan crosses her legs, a small smile settling on her lips.
“As I told you before, Harry, I’m not at liberty to reveal anything your wife tells me. And I don’t think it’s fair to make judgement on your character based upon my sessions with River. You’re here now, tell me about yourself.”
I close my eyes, drawing in a heavy breath.
“I- ‘M sorry. I'm not good at this type of thing. I wouldn't know the right thing to say.”
“Just relax,” She commands softly. “Nothing you say here is right or wrong. We're just two people having a conversation. Why don't you start by telling me about how you met River?”
I slowly release my breath and run my clammy hands over my trousers.
“I wanted to go to Uni in the States, so I got Fulbright scholarship to study business at Columbia,” I start. “It was maybe my second week there, and I got an invitation to this mixer on campus to meet more people. It was a really dull party, but then this really gorgeous girl walked in the room. She was wearin’ this sundress- it was a little unusual for Autumn in New York. She looked like she'd just walked off the beach, all glowy and effortlessly beautiful,”
A small grin tugs at my lips, replaying the memory of seeing Riv for the first time.
“I must have looked like the biggest dork, watchin’ her while I tried to work up the nerve to talk to her,” I continued. “I almost missed my chance, but then I noticed this creep had slipped somethin’ in her drink and I couldn't just let that happen to her. She was super sweet,really innocent. I instantly just wanted to take care of her. Those years in uni and living in New York-they were the best. But things have changed,”
I hadn't expected to say so much, and somehow, it didn't feel as agonizing as I thought it would.
“Change isn't always a bad thing,” Dr. Evans replies. “In fact, it's only natural when you've been together as long as you and River have. Couples evolve as individuals through the course of a relationship. It's healthy,”
“Yeah, but I changed for the worse,” I mumble, my gaze falling to the floor. “I found this journal River keeps in our closet last night. It documented everything awful I've done in the past few years. I never thought things were that bad between us. I just thought she nagged all the time. I thought she was makin’ it all up,”
I know it sounds horrible saying it out loud, accusing my own wife of making up our marital problems.
“I think maybe your biggest problem is that you and River have different expectations for your relationship. When one partner thinks the other expects too much, and the other thinks one gives too little, it creates a disconnect- breeds contempt. Would you say you've felt that way?”
“What?” My eyebrows furrow violently. “I-I don't hate River. I love her. I love her more than I've ever loved anyone. I mean, she's havin’ my baby,”
I was semi-receptive before, but now my defenses were in overdrive. This is exactly why I didn't want to go to therapy in the first place. Therapists are vultures. They feed off the insecurities of others, twist their words, and try to convince them to confess to things they've never thought or felt before.
“I think you misunderstood me,Harry,” Dr. Evans replies, leaning forward in her chair. “I'm not implying that you hate your wife. Contempt is different. It's feeling underappreciated or feeling superior- feeling like one partner doesn't deserve respect and vice versa. Feeling rejected. It's a perfectly normal human emotion, but not acknowledging it often leads to the failure of a relationship.”
I shake my head, feeling my blood boil. I don't know if I'm angry because I do feel that way about River, or if the very thought of feeling that way upsets me.
“No way,” I sneer. “No way you're going to convince me that I hate my wife. What kind of therapist are you? You're supposed to help people, but all you do is manipulate emotions. I can only imagine all the fucked up things you're tellin’ River about me,”
Dr. Evans doesn't even flinch when I raise my voice. In fact, it's annoying that the only reaction she gives is pursing her glossy lips.
“I can't convince you to feel anything that's not already in your heart. I'm only here to listen and provide solutions. You make your own choices at the end of the day.”
I hop to my feet,patting my pockets for my car keys.
“Yeah? Well, I make the choice to end this conversation right here. I'll send you a cheque for River’s bill.”
“That's fair,” Dr. Evan replies, still unmoved by my outburst. “Have a great day, Harry,”
I don't even bother to look back, heading straight outside to the Rover.
“Fuck,” I mumble, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel once I'm settled in the driver's seat.
I always know I've messed up when it's too late. At least now I can say I've been to therapy.
