Marriage counselling.
Could we even still qualify for this? Weweredivorced.
I clicked on an image of a female therapist and sent an email before I could change my mind. My god, could we do this? How would I be able to move on?
I scrolled down, reading about other couples that had rebuilt their marriage after infidelity, and a tiny spark of hope lit in my chest.
A therapist can help you look beyond the immediate issue and understand what's happening underneath it. Hidden insecurities, unmet needs, or fundamental differences in the relationship may come to light. When both partners are willing to be honest and vulnerable, those discoveries can become the starting point for healing and personal growth.
We both felt honest—and definitely vulnerable. I chewed on my lip and kept reading.
Therapy can open the door to healing, but it's the work done outside the therapy room that often creates lasting change.
Christ.
The baby moved, and the sensation still made me smile. I loved knowing she was moving around in there, blissfully unaware of the turmoil her parents were going through. She was a blessing, and I couldn’t wait to meet her already. I stroked my stomach while scrolling through the website, my fingers tickling the area she was moving in.
Then my email pinged.
It was the therapist, offering us a consultation. My heart skipped a thousand beats as I gnawed on the skin around my thumb.
I reached for my phone and took a deep breath before messaging Vanessa.
Lila: I think I'm going to suggest therapy to Victor.
The little dots showed me she was typing.
Vanessa: I think it’s probably the best thing to do or you’ll just end up setting fire to him in a few months.
I chuckled as the door unlocked, and I almost dropped my phone. Why the hell was I so nervous? This wasVictor. The man I’d been married to for over twenty years.
He walked in, stomping his feet on the mat while searching for me. His eyes soon locked onto mine, and a big smile broke across his face.
“Hey,” he said softly, and the smell of brick dust, his sweat, and hard work filled the air. It was my favourite smell. I could bottle it up and inhale it.
“Hey.”
He kicked his boots off and peeled off the high visibility vest he wore over his navy fleece, and my mouth actually watered at the sight of him. His hair was damp from the rain, and the veins in his forearms were on display thanks to him shoving up his sleeves. God, the weakness I had for this man was insane.
“How has today been?” he asked, leaning on the sofa with both arms, staring down at me.
“I thought we could talk,” I replied throatily, like I was coming down with a cold. Nope, just good old-fashioned lust.
His eyes widened, and he nodded. “Sure. Want me to get changed first?”
My eyes trailed over him once more, and I didn’t care that he saw. “You’re fine like that.”
His eyes twinkled. “Am I?”
My cheeks flooded with heat, and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip.
Down, girl.
“Don’t get any ideas.” I scoffed, avoiding looking at him. “Your ego doesn’t need boosting.”
“Oh, but it does. I’ve got the most beautiful woman in the world looking at me with heat in her eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m praying it’s because of me and not something I just interrupted.”
I stared at him. “Like what?”
