“Fine. Figure your shit out and return home to your husband so I can get back to my life.”
“I will. I gotta go. Cooper and I are about to take a dip in the ocean. I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
Jasen
“I’m telling you, Tillman, she’s acting really strange, Something’s up.” I place my call on speaker so I can unpack while I chat with my business partner. I wouldn’t say that we’re close friends or anything like that. We have more of a professional relationship. We’ve hung out occasionally for a beer or two, but that pretty much sums it up. Even then, we didn’t share much about our personal lives. He’s a very private person, and so am I. This isn’t like me to discuss my personal life with him, but I’m desperate for answers.
“You said you guys have been having issues, Jasen. Maybe she’s just stressed out about that.”
“No, it isn’t that. She seems… different. She actually let me kiss her today, and do you know she even told me she loves me?”
“She’s your wife. She’s supposed to tell you she loves you.”
“She hasn’t said that since our wedding day. Monroe isn’t the lovey-dovey type. She’s as tough as nails.”
He’s only been around Monroe a few times. Once when his wife, Simone, invited us to dinner, and the other time when we invited them to our home. Our dinners were like night and day. Simone made a home-cooked Southern meal. Fried catfish, candied yams, collard greens, and cornbread. I ate until I was stuffed, and afterwards, she presented her famous peach cobbler. Simone showed hospitality. She made our plates and served them to us, she refilled our drinks, she even made to-go bags for us when we left. But what I liked best was the love she showed her husband. She was affectionate with him. Little touches here and there. A peck when they were in passing in the kitchen. She told us about how they met, how it was the best thing that ever happened to her. He watched her tell their story with complete adoration. Things were a little different when we invited them over for dinner at our home. Monroe hired a caterer. Our meal consisted of prime rib, mashed potatoes, and a veggie mix I couldn’t identify. We had something called crème brûlée for dessert. The meal was pretty good. But the caterer cost me a small fortune. Monroe wasn’t as hospitable. We made our own plates, refilled our own drinks, and there wasn’t enough food to offer seconds, let alone a to-go bag. She spent most of the time giving Simone a tour of the house and showing her all the expensive things I’ve bought her over the years. We didn’t share stories about how we met. We didn’t talk about our plans to have kids in the future like they did. And when Simone bragged about how much she loved her husband, Monroe just smiled and told her to help herself to more wine. I shake my head and focus on the conversation.
“Maybe she realizes that she’s losing you and she’s trying to do better. Stop looking at this as a negative,” he continues.
I’m quiet as I think about his statement. Maybe he’s right. Maybe Monroe is changing for the better. Instead of interpreting too much into it, I should be happy she’s making the effort. “I guess you could be right. Maybe I’m overreacting.”
“You’re always overreacting.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t say that. Let’s just say I analyze everything. Which is why I’m the best at what I do.”
“You mean we’re the best at what we do.”
“Yeah, that too. Any plans this weekend with Simone?” I ask.
“Nope, not this weekend. I’m out of town visiting my folks.”
“And you left your wife home?”
“Yeah, she decided to sit this one out. She isn’t feeling too well.”
“Oh, well, send her my best.”
“Will do. How about we touch base on Monday to go over the Mavericks case?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Great, see you then. Listen, man, don’t stress too much about the wife. All marriages have issues. Just put in the work, and I’m sure it’ll all work out.”
“I guess you’re right. You give good advice, Cooper Tillman. Thank you.”
“You got it, man.”
Chapter 4
Morgan
I stare down at my set of freshly painted yellow nails while Jasen drives us. I’ve been quiet the entire ride as I attempt to settle my nerves. I’m about to speak with a marriage counselor about marital problems with a man I’m technically not married to. What if this backfires on me? I shake away the thought, hoping I have enough strength and deceit to pull this off. We arrive at the building, and Jasen turns the car off. “Thanks for agreeing to this, Monroe.”
“Of course,” I answer.
“I know you hate this kind of stuff, but I want you to be completely honest with me in there. We can’t fix our marriage if we don’t work through our problems.”
I nod. “Okay. I will.”
We exit the car and approach the redbrick building. As we enter, I stop beside Jasen to view the directory. He finds what floor the therapist is on and laces his fingers through mine. “This way.”
I follow him down a long hallway until we finally arrive at the office. We approach the receptionist. After he gives her our names, she instructs us to have a seat. My leg bounces with anxiety at what’s to come. Unlike Monroe, I’m super emotional. I’m damn near an empath. I take on other people’s emotions and feelings, and it drains my energy. What if I become so overwhelmed that I spill the truth to Jasen? It would ruin everything. I’m only doing this to patch things up so when my sister gets back, she can get with the program and fix her marriage.
“Your hand is sweaty,” Jasen whispers, interrupting my thoughts.
I still my leg and glance down at our hands, still intertwined. I quickly remove my hand from his. “Sorry.”
“Are you nervous?”
“No. Why?”
“Your leg has been shaking like crazy, your hand is sweaty, and… you said you’re sorry. You never apologize.”
“Yeah, I’m a little nervous.”
Before he can reply, we’re called to the back. We enter a small and neat office, where we’re met by a short middle-aged woman. “I’m Dr. Alana Keith.”
She extends her hand to me, but I decline. “Sorry, my hands are sweaty.”
She chuckles. “I understand.”
She shakes hands with Jasen and offers us a seat on a plush leather couch. She takes the seat in front of us and picks up a pad and pencil from the table next to her.
“Thank you for choosing me as your counselor. My goal is to help you work through your marital issues and remember why you fell in love in the first place. What we discuss in this room is confidential and without judgment.”
“Thank you for seeing us, Dr. Keith. You come highly recommended,” Jasen responds.
“I believe love conquers all, Mr. Baker. Therefore, I take my job very seriously. Do either of you have any questions before we get started?”
Jasen shakes his head and turns to look at me. “None for me,” I answer.