Chapter 28
Hadley
The therapist’s office was smaller than I expected.
Not the soft beige and oversized comfort Cal had described from his individual sessions. This one felt… heavier. More deliberate. Dark wood paneling lined the walls, polished but slightly worn like it had absorbed years of other people’s secrets. Two armchairs faced a low charcoal couch, positioned close enough to force intimacy but far enough to keep distance if someone needed it. A single window sat behind the therapist’s chair, blinds half closed, letting in thin stripes of late-afternoon sunlight that cut across the rug like quiet interrogation lights.
The air smelled faintly of lavender and old books. Not fresh lavender. The kind that lingers from oils soaked into wood over time.
Cal walked in first, his hand briefly brushing the small of my back in silent guidance. I followed, adjusting the hem of my loose sweater automatically, a habit I hadn’t broken since my bump started showing more prominently. The room felt warmer than the hallway, and for a second I wondered if that was intentional. If warmth made people open up faster.
Dr. Patel stood when we entered. She was younger than I thought she would be. Early forties maybe. Soft curls pinned loosely at the back of her head, warm brown eyes that didn’t dart around the room searching for authority, they stayed steady. Observant without being invasive.
No giant legal pad. No obvious therapy stereotypes.
Just a small leather notebook resting on her knee when she sat back down, like it existed mostly to make clients comfortable, not to document them.
She smiled gently. “Thank you both for coming.”
Her voice was calm. Not overly soothing. Just… level.
“This is a co-parenting and relationship planning session,” she continued. “No medical updates. No pregnancy monitoring. Just the two of you talking about what happens after the baby arrives.”
Cal nodded once, already leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees. His posture screamed controlled focus, the same stance he took before stepping on stage or negotiating contracts. He wore a fitted black tee and dark jeans, tattoos peeking from his sleeves, fingers loosely interlocked like he was physically containing himself.
I sat beside him, hands clasped over my bump. The couch dipped under our weight, softer than it looked. Too soft. It felt like it wanted to swallow us, pull us deeper into the cushions so neither of us could escape quickly.
Dr. Patel leaned forward slightly. “Let’s start simple.”
Her gaze moved between us evenly.
“Why are you two actually together?”
Cal answered first.
Of course he did.
“We’re married,” he said, his tone measured and steady. “We have a child coming. We’re building a family. That’s the reason.”
It sounded clean. Structured. Like a mission statement prepared ahead of time.
Dr. Patel nodded thoughtfully. She didn’t write anything down. She just turned her gaze to me.
“Hadley?”
My fingers tightened slightly against my belly. The blue diamond on my ring caught the sunlight and flashed against the dark room, the cold shimmer making my chest tighten unexpectedly. I stared at it for a second, letting the weight of it ground me.
“I’m here because I want to believe this can be real,” I said quietly.
The words tasted fragile leaving my mouth.
“But most days…” I paused, swallowing. “…most days I feel like I’m auditioning. Like I have to prove I’m worth keeping every single day.”
Cal shifted beside me. I could feel the movement in the couch cushion, the slight tension radiating off him before I even looked.
“And I’m terrified,” I continued, voice smaller now, “that once the baby’s here, I’ll be replaced. Or sidelined. Or just… forgotten.”
Silence dropped into the room like a physical object. Heavy. Suffocating. It pressed against my ribs and made every breath feel louder than it should have.
