No More Secrets

"Arthur, wait. There's something I need to tell you."

Everything that happened after Joan Campbell said those words was a blur. She broke down, and told Arthur about her relapse, only to be interrupted by work yet again, when Annie burst into his office to report that the photos had been doctored. That was followed by a week of meetings with lawyers, smoothing ruffled feathers at the State Department, eating and sleeping at the office. They only went home to shower and change clothes. There was no time for just the two of them, no time to finish their conversation.

But after Arthur had testified before the Senate Intelligence committee, the crisis was over. Joan had sat, discreetly, at the back of the hearing room, smiling to herself as Arthur confidently parried the senators' questions. The committee ruled that all of the Agency's actions were in accordance with the nation's anti-terrorism policies. Now they were in the car, finally headed home. Or so Joan thought, until Arthur drove past their turn.

"Arthur…" she started, but stopped; she realized where they were going. He pulled into the parking lot of a small, out-of-the way diner. It was a quiet place, where the regulars liked to mind their own business. Joan had met Arthur for lunch here a few times, back when they were dating. Back when they had to be discreet – before Arthur's divorce became final.

Arthur held the door for her and followed her inside. There were no other customers at that time of day, and only one waitress. She turned away from the television she had been watching, grabbed 2 menus and a pot of coffee, and followed Arthur and Joan to a booth at the back.

"Coffee to start?" she asked.

"Yes, please," Arthur replied. "Do you want anything to eat, Honey?" he asked Joan.

"No, thank you," she replied.

"Just coffee then," Arthur said, and thanked the waitress when she finished pouring. He waited until she sat back down at the counter, and her attention returned to the TV, before turning to Joan. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied. "I haven't taken any pills since our last talk. And I've been going to meetings. Every day."

"Glad to hear it." He smiled slightly. He should have known she'd answer the question he was really asking. "I'm sorry. I know this last week has been tough."

"I'm fine. Really," she insisted.

Arthur sighed, knowing that it was time to get to the point; to pick up where they had left off a week ago. Had it only been a week? It felt like years.

"How did it happen?" he asked softly.

Joan stared at her coffee cup, unable to meet his eyes. "It started gradually," she began. "Everything has just been so tense since Jai was killed. And then the situation with Lena, and Annie going to Russia and getting caught… it brought back everything that happened in Nairobi. I started having these dreams about it, and I just didn't know how to cope."

Arthur reached across the table and gently cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"Arthur, I'm sorry. I…" She shook her head, not knowing how to continue.

He lowered his hand, returning it to his own coffee cup. "Joan," he said gently, ""When you started pulling away from me, and from your job, I didn't know what to think. I was worried that you and Seth were…that you were having an affair. I nearly left, because I didn't know what was really going on. So – please – no more secrets, okay?"

She met his eyes and saw the pain in them. Tears filled her own. "Oh, Arthur. Between Jai and Lena and Annie, you were already under so much pressure. I couldn't bear the thought of adding to it. And I didn't want to disappoint you."

Arthur closed his eyes, fighting tears as well. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently as he opened his eyes again.

"Joan, honey, I'm so sorry."

"Arthur, it's not your fault," she said. "You have no reason to apologize."

"Yes, I do," he insisted. "I'm sorry for whatever I said or did that made you think you could ever disappoint me. I'm sorry that I haven't said it often enough, but I'm proud of you. Of everything you've accomplished and everything you've had to overcome to do it. Nothing can change that!"

"Oh, Arthur," she whispered, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks now. He reached across and brushed them away with his thumb. Then he signalled the waitress for the bill.

After paying for the coffee they had barely touched and leaving a generous tip, they got back in their car and headed home. When they arrived, Arthur pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and asked Joan for hers. Puzzled she handed it to him, and then smiled as he turned them both off, put them in his briefcase and locked it.

"We are off duty until tomorrow morning," he said emphatically.

"Sounds good to me," she replied. "Think I'll go take a hot bath."

When she emerged following her bath, she was surprised to see Arthur setting two plates on the dining room table. "You cooked?"

"Nothing fancy, just bacon and eggs, but I thought we could use a meal that didn't come from a delivery container," he answered.

"Ugh, you're right," she said. "I never want to see another slice of pizza again."

He pulled out her chair for her. "I don't know. 'Never' is a long time." She laughed as he sat beside her, and they began to eat. It was the best meal they'd had in a week. When they finished eating, Arthur started to rise, but Joan stopped him with a hand on his arm. He sat, and looked at her expectantly.

"I want you to know – I need you to know – that I would never cheat on you."

"I know," he replied. "And I need you to know that whenever something is wrong, you can always come to me. No matter what it is. And no matter what's going on at work, I'll always be your husband first. Always."

Joan nodded. "I know," she said.

Arthur got to his feet, and held out his hand to Joan. She took it, and as she stood, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

After they cleared the table and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, Joan looked at the clock. "I know it's early, but I'm beat. I think I'll turn in."

"Good idea. Neither one of us has had a good night's sleep in – God I can't even remember how long. I'll just take a quick shower, and then I'll join you."

Ten minutes later, Arthur walked into to bedroom to find Joan already in bed, asleep. He smiled. God, she's so beautiful, he thought to himself.

He slipped into bed and turned toward her. She was lying on her left side with her back to him, her arm on top of the blankets. She was wearing her lavender nightgown with the spaghetti straps – one of his favourites. He placed his hand on her arm and gently kissed her bare shoulder.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Love you, too," she murmured.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Almost," she replied.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, and smiled as she placed her hand on top of his. Soon, the rhythm of her breathing told him that she had drifted off. He lay awake for a long time, listening as she let out the occasional, soft snore, before he finally fell asleep.