The counseling appointment was scheduled for the following week.
I almost canceled twice.
The first time was because I didn't want to sit in a room and discuss my marriage with a stranger.
The second time was because I was afraid Brad would use the session to convince me to forgive him.
But I went.
We arrived separately.
I wanted some space before entering the building.
Brad was waiting near the reception desk.
He looked nervous.
"Hello."
"Hi."
Neither of us attempted to hold hands.
The receptionist asked us to complete a few forms.
I wrote my name.
Then I sat beside the window.
Brad sat across from me.
When our names were called, we entered a small office.
There were two chairs and a sofa.
A box of tissues sat on a side table.
The counselor introduced herself.
She asked us what had brought us there.
Brad looked at me.
I didn't want him speaking first.
So I did.
"My husband had an affair with his secretary. He told her our marriage was over when it wasn't. He also made plans involving our future without discussing them with me."
The counselor nodded.
Then she looked at Brad.
"Is that accurate?"
"Yes."
She asked whether there was anything he wanted to add.
He took a breath.
"I lied. I cheated. I made decisions without considering how they would affect my wife."
I looked at him.
He wasn't looking at me.
The counselor asked what had happened to make us seek help now.
I explained the morning with the coffee.
I didn't hide what I had done.
I admitted that I had deliberately put something in Brad's drink because I wanted to embarrass him.
The counselor listened carefully.
She reminded us that anger and betrayal did not make dangerous behavior acceptable.
I agreed.
Brad agreed.
For the first time, we were discussing both of our actions without using one to excuse the other.
Then she asked me how the affair had affected me.
I looked at my hands.
I thought about the nights I'd waited.
The restaurant receipts.
The perfume.
The message about the cologne.
"I stopped trusting my own judgment."
The counselor asked what I meant.
I explained that every time I noticed something unusual, Brad told me I was imagining things.
Eventually, I began questioning myself.
I wondered whether I was becoming jealous.
Whether I was asking too many questions.
Whether I was making his life difficult.
I told her about the dinners I had left waiting.
The calls he hadn't answered.
The way he had kissed my forehead without looking at me.
I began crying.
I hadn't expected that.
Brad shifted in his chair.
He reached toward me.
I moved my hand away.
He stopped.
The counselor asked him what he had heard.
Brad looked at me.
"I heard that I made her feel alone."
I wiped my eyes.
"That isn't all."
He nodded.
"I know."
The counselor asked him to explain.
He said he had become unhappy and had avoided discussing it.
He admitted that the attention from Chloe had made him feel wanted.
Then he admitted that he had used his marriage as an excuse to continue the affair.
The counselor asked whether he understood the difference between being unhappy and choosing to deceive someone.
He nodded.
"Yes."
I looked at him.
"Do you?"
He met my eyes.
"I do now."
I wanted to ask why he hadn't understood it earlier.
But I didn't.
The session continued.
We discussed the appointment paperwork.
The family plans.
The financial arrangements.
I explained how difficult it had been to discover that Brad had been making decisions about something we had once dreamed about together.
The counselor asked what I needed before I could consider moving forward.
I answered carefully.
"Honesty. Time. And no more secret decisions."
She asked Brad whether he could accept those conditions.
He said yes.
Then she asked me something I hadn't expected.
"Do you want to repair the marriage?"
I looked at Brad.
Then at the counselor.
"I don't know."
The answer felt uncomfortable.
But it was honest.
I wasn't ready to promise anything.
When the session ended, we walked outside.
Brad stood beside the entrance.
"Thank you for going."
I nodded.
"I went for myself too."
"I know."
We walked toward the parking area.
He asked whether I wanted to have lunch.
I told him I wasn't hungry.
He accepted that.
Before getting into his car, he stopped.
"Can I say something?"
I looked at him.
"Go ahead."
"I heard what you said in there."
I waited.
"I didn't understand how much you were blaming yourself."
I looked away.
"You should have understood."
He nodded.
"You're right."
Then he left.
I sat in my car for several minutes.
I thought about the session.
It hadn't fixed anything.
It hadn't erased the affair.
But it had allowed me to say things I had kept inside for months.
That evening, I made dinner for myself.
One plate.
One glass.
No waiting.
When I finished, I washed the dishes and turned off the kitchen light.
The black mug was still drying beside the sink.
I picked it up.
Then I placed it inside the cupboard again.
I wasn't ready to use it.
But I wasn't ready to throw it away either.
Click here to continue reading: PART 19: Brad Finally Made a Choice Without Asking Chloe or Margaret for Help, and I Had to Decide Whether His Actions Were Enough
I Thought My Husband Was Meeting Another Woman That Morning, Until One Small Detail Made Me Question Everything
Part 18 of 20
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