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“Thank you for agreeing to see me again.” Anne Lyle stands in front of my office early Wednesday morning.
“I was actually grateful that you called.” She steps through the door and then turns to face me. “What happened in your office a few weeks ago was mortifying, and I want to apologize.”
“Nonsense. That wasn’t on you.”
“But it is,” she says, sinking down into the couch right by my front door as tears begin streaming down her face. “My husband is not the man I married anymore, and I begged him to talk to someone with me. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that perhaps I don’t want to save a relationship he’s no longer willing to put any effort into.”
My heart sinks because my goal is always to help save relationships, to encourage communication and invest energy into the person you chose to spend your life with once upon a time. But looking at Anne and knowing how her husband is from the brief encounter I had with him, all I can see on her face is defeat.
“The entire reason I wanted to speak with you alone today was to gauge how you were feeling and make sure that you’re okay. Sometimes therapy on your own can help you solve problems in your relationship as well,” I offer, thinking back to several clients of mine who came to see me without their spouses. Their relationships improved anyway because they could finally communicate effectively about what they needed.
“There’s not much of a relationship to salvage, Dr. St. Clair,” she concedes. “Coming to see you was more of a last-ditch effort on my part. But after that day, Thomas made it clear to me that he would not be attending any sort of therapy, regardless of whether the therapist was married or not. And I’m so sorry he said those things to you, by the way.”
“You do not have to apologize for him, Anne. That’s not your cross to bear.”
“Neither is his lack of respect for me anymore.” She clears her throat. “Look, I know this is probably the opposite of what you do, but I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction…”
“Toward?”
“Leaving my husband, Dr. St. Clair. I can’t stay in my marriage anymore. I’ve thought about this a lot over the past year, and now I know that it’s the right decision for me.”
Swallowing down my pride, I stare at the woman across from me and realize that leaving her husband is the best choice for her because it’s what she wants. Internally, I feel frustrated that I couldn’t help her the best way I know how, but then I realize I still can help her, and someone else I know can too.
“I actually have someone I would recommend.”
Leading Anne across the courtyard of the complex, we enter Ethan’s office and are greeted by Yvonne as soon as we get inside.
“Hi, Dr. St. Clair. How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if Mr. Fuller had a moment to speak with me and my client? I know he’s busy, and we didn’t have an appointment…”
She cuts me off. “Nonsense. He’s in between meetings right now. Let me see if he’s on the phone.” Standing from her desk, she walks down the hall toward Ethan’s office as I direct Anne to take a seat in the waiting area.
“Thank you for doing this,” Anne says, reaching for my hand and squeezing it.
“My goal is always to help in the best way I can.”
“Amelia?” Ethan questions, pulling my attention to him as he comes around the corner.
I look to Anne as we stand in unison. “Mr. Fuller, this is a client of mine, Anne Lyle.”
“Nice to meet you,” she says, extending her hand to shake Ethan’s.
“Likewise.” Curiosity blankets his features as he looks between Anne and me. “Is everything okay?”
“I was hoping you had a moment to speak with Anne. She…she’s in need of your services.”
Ethan’s eyebrows pop up. “Oh. Well, yes, of course. I have a little bit of time right now, actually.” He spins toward Yvonne. “Yvonne, can you set us up in the conference room, please?”
“Absolutely.”
I watch Yvonne gather some papers and then lead Anne to the room off to our left. I then turn back toward Ethan. “I appreciate you doing this on such short notice. She and I have spoken, and I know this is what’s best for her.”
“Amelia, are you sure?”
“Yes. We can talk later.” Afraid I might lose my composure, I spin on my heels and exit his office without another word, walking back to mine and shifting my mind to my next client, a couple that I know I can help—but that’s because it’s what they both want.
And even though my chest hurts for Anne, I know she’s doing what she wants and needs to, so I have to accept that.
* * *
