108 days to the present:

Michonne shook her left leg nervously as she watched Rosa find her notebook in the office. She wasn't as dishevelled as she had been two weeks ago – Mike had also come home the previous week stating that she seemed better, more aware.
His session had been good according to him, enlightening even, and Michonne wished she would come out saying the same.

Her head had been foggy.

Ever since the small gathering, she had been in the clouds. But not in the best way. Not on the cloud nine that people who were in love often floated on, or people who finally found a way to live their dreams.

No.

It was raining where she was, the clouds were thick and grey and blurred her vision. She knew it correlated with that night, with the switch that occurred from Rick's drunken mess to the morning after, where every word had been forgotten.
In the two weeks that had gone, she had seen Sasha and Andrea, who looked at her wearily, even questioning what was wrong. Michonne brushed it off, her voice less defiant than before whenever she said 'it's okay, I'm just tired'.

It was the truth.

It was tiring not knowing where her mind stood. She had been so sure of everything in her life. Of who she would marry, of when she would have a kid, of how to take care of the kid, even of what she wanted to work as.
She even was sure of what she had done when she broke up with Mike after finding evidence of his cheating, and was even more sure of her reason for taking him back – Andre.

Rose finally sat down, fluffing around her skirt before crossing her legs and spreading a smile on her face.
Although her smile was friendly, Michonne was afraid of the woman sat in front of her. This woman was the only one that could see the truth that lied within the back of Michonne's throat, and it always scared Michonne to be so open and raw.

It had dawned on Michonne as she lay awake the night before this meeting that it may be a small crush. Which was normal – at least she hoped Rose would tell her it too. It was normal to have crushes; the trick was just to not act upon them.
She recognised the light butterflies, the poison of jealousy in her stomach lining when she saw Jessie kiss his jaw, her heightened pitch of laughter at only his jokes. Parts of her had not liked the bonding between him and Mike, they also didn't want to deny the jokes Mike threw her way at the expense of Rick and hers expense.
The realisation – and partial acceptance – of this fact seemed to soothe a part of her. As if it was what she needed to move in a direction (although she unsure of which one).

"So how have you been Michonne?" The statement was relaxed and opened the room. Part of Michonne wanted to not react, to sit back and guard herself until the whole interaction got awkward enough for her to go home. But she fought against that, knowing it wasn't going to help in the situation.
"Fine, not so eventful, but fine." She placed a sickly sweet smile on her lips and mirrored Rose's body language, crossing her legs.
"You know, Mike says different." Michonne raises an eyebrow, sure the terms of confidentiality didn't match this. "I know, you're a lawyer. I'm not meant to disclose these things but… he does."
In the back of her mind, she was sure this was meant to rock her world, put a shiver down her spine. Her man, her Mike, was so positive about them and where they were going, that she should be too.
She was aware that part of her face was grimacing.

Rose waited for a response, flicking her eyes to her watch. Michonne didn't shift in her seat, the silence not affecting her. Her work had made her aware of the effectiveness of silence and she could bask in it without it shifting her mood.
"You know, and correct me if I'm wrong but… you've been looking at checking out for a while." Rose tapped a pen on her notepad as she stared at Michonne as her breath hitched.

It wasn't as though this woman was speaking from inexperience, which scared Michonne. If it was so obvious to her, what did it look like to others?
She contemplated whether to respond, cases like this in court never went well. When someone decided to speak and hadn't thought of their words, just spoke to defend and defend, it never came out right. The words were also laced in guilt, every time.
Michonne was aware of the way Rose kept her body open at this point, her legs uncrossed, her arms on her lap. It wasn't meant to be a game and Michonne shouldn't have seen it as a game, but here she was, putting walls up. Aware that she was doing so.

Her mouth opened and closed, forming answers, then scrapping them for another sentence.

"Michonne, it's okay, to talk to me. I won't disclose this. I just think, speaking woman to woman, it could be easier." When Michonne didn't reply, her face still hard and her mind still caught up with all the potential actions she could take, Rose sighed. "Would it be better if I sat beside you, in a less professional manner? Like a friend maybe?" Michonne smiled at the effort Rose was making. Honestly, she didn't know what would work for her in this moment and she wasn't sure what to say to Rose. So she nodded and Rose came to sit beside her, kicking off her kitten heels and placing her feet on the coffee table in front of them. "I haven't been comfortable enough to do this for a long time. I hope this isn't a step too overboard?"

Michonne shook her head, feeling the tension in the room lower just a little bit. Whilst Rose remained silent, allowing the time to pass and for Michonne to follow her, resting her legs on the coffee table also and sighing as she closed her eyes.
Closing her eyes reminded her of how she had laid awake last night, of the feeling of confusion in her head and her chest and how she didn't want it tonight. How she wanted to turn and sleep peacefully, knowing her mind wasn't falling apart at the seams.
She needed to be better. A confused her, was a haphazard her, and it would infiltrate into work, into her care for Andre and her friendships and she was too far developed to have that happen again.

With one last sigh, she sunk into the sofa, a soft nod escaping her that was caught in the corner of Rose's eye. "So what has been going on Michonne? Where did the change come from?" It was asked nonchalantly, with no accusations, just genuine concern. It was rare these days for words to not be laced with these things and it made her feel comfortable.
"I think it's… work. It's been getting to me." There it goes, the lie. The walls, being built higher and higher when the truth needed to be faced.
She was tired of it. But she didn't want to correct her. She didn't want to have to save face. So her lips stayed tight as she awaited Rose's answer or question.
"What about Rick?" His name stirred the butterflies that had been dormant in her stomach all morning. She hated the sickly feeling of it and wanted to despise what it meant, but couldn't make herself do such a thing.

Was it worth telling her all of this? The feelings associated, the understanding she had of what she indeed did feel towards him? What would she gain? Was there anymore clarity that could be given? All the decisiveness had left her bones, but she wasn't sure she would be able to take advice from a single person and roll with it.

Michonne wanted Oprah.

"Why do you think it's changed?"

Silence. Michonne's heart beats against her chest at a mile a minute and she's lost her composure. Her fingers rammed together in a nervous knot, her eyes no longer focusing but blurring the room.

"Why do you think you haven't learnt the who, the what, the when, the where, the why, the how Michonne?"

Silence and sweat pooled in Michonne's palms. There was no where to escape the questions that tumbled from Rose, endless and ruthless like waves on a rough day.

"What about Rick?"

"What is your marriage like?"

"Do you want to know who she is yet?"

"Why are you still here, counselling?"

Michonne's lid flew, an outburst erupting from her. If you saw her, not knowing the context, you would think the worst of her. Her spit flying out, her eyes venomous, her face scrunched into a form of anger and frustration no one knew was possible.
"I DON'T KNOW!" She barked. "Everyone thinks they know. Mike, his mother, Sasha, Andrea… everyone BUT ME!" Michonne pointed at her chest then, right where her heart was pressing against her rib cages, threatening to break them at any moment.
She noticed that Rose's body had tensed up, jumping at the initial outburst. Her limbs began to loosen as Michonne got control of her breathing, unravelling her muscles and sinking back into the chair, placing her face in her hands. "I'm sorry." She whispered after a minute had passed. At moments like this, she wished she were more like her mother, made of little but relevant words.

"That's okay." Rose placed a soft hand on her shoulder and squeezed, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Just… talk. Tell me how you feel. I'm sorry for asking all the questions at once it's just… you're so intelligent and I feel as though you know some of the answers." Michonne looked up at her briefly to exchange a smile, and turned back to rest her head in her hands.
Closing her eyes, she tried to mentally map out her words in a coherent way.

"I am…" sighing, she turned to look Rose in the eye. "In a dilemma. This marriage was in one since the day he cheated on me and it just… got more complicated from there." It didn't come out as smoothly as it was in her mind, but she was talking. That must have been enough.
It felt odd, to be in the other seat of things. Usually, she was interrogating.
"With Rick?" Michonne's lips pursed in desire to be difficult. Her shoulders tensed, she was aware of it. Rose reassured her with a simple pat on the back.
"It's nothing like what Mike did. Nothing has been acted upon… there is nothing much to act upon. It's a crush. That's all. Its normal, right?" The 'right' was added with a hint of insecurity, something that Rose picked up on. A soft nod prompted Michonne on. "I don't trust Mike. He hasn't given me any incentive to. He looks up your legs – if you haven't noticed – and flirts and… I wonder if he does it with other woman when I'm not around. At his work place, at the store. It never used to even cross my mind, but in the past whenever he left the house it would crawl up my throat and strangle me." She gave the physical action at the same time. Her hands grabbing her throat as she caught her breath. "Part of me got tired. All this counselling and I was still being rummaged with it all, you know? And I made friends along the way, saw what my life could be like without worry and I just took it because I could. Because I needed to. For Andre."

His name bought a smile to her face and a joyful whisper from her heart. Rose seemed to be nodding in time to her thoughts, carefully tasting her words before she produced them. "I've noticed. I thought you didn't. I was in no position to say such a thing. It has been interesting to watch both of your dynamics." Rose cleared her throat when Michonne didn't reply. "You mentioned Andre. Why was it for Andre?"
Michonne almost bit her tongue but she figured she was so far gone that doing so would just be a disservice. "In the beginning, it was all for Andre. I was back with Mike, because of Andre."

"And why didn't you mention this in a session? It would have made things easier to overcome somewhat." Rose chimed in, curling her body onto the couch.
"I didn't… it wouldn't have made things work. You and I both know that. It wouldn't have kept him around for Andre." Michonne shook her head, pressing fingers to her forehead. "At one point I had mentioned marriage counselling and he totally disregarded it. Then seconds later, when I had thought of how stupid it was, he went full steam ahead and done it." Clapping her hands together, Michonne got rid of her frustration.

Rose nodded understandably. "Is Mike a good man?"
Her question scraped at Michonne's inside, like chalk on a board. Once upon a time, nothing but praise would have left her lips. Light would have shone from her mouth at the chance of talking about him. About how kind he was, how caring and loving. But now, it was tainted and she couldn't help but swallow the venom in her throat before she spoke. "He's a good father. Kind where necessary. Loving where necessary. To the right woman that doesn't know what he's capable of."
She pursed her lips, comparing the old Michonne to the current Michonne, unsure of how comfortable she was in her skin. The taste of essentially bad mouthing Mike foreign to her in such a context.

"Do you think you could ever forgive him? If you knew the finer details? There would be some closure in that." Rose asked, looking at her intently.
The thought of the finer details scared Michonne, made her wonder whether she was holding herself back and not helping the current situation. Before her knowledge of where she herself stood with Rick had found her a day ago, it would have been simpler. Had this conversation happened a week ago, she may have been able to brush her thoughts to a side and blame herself for not being open enough (that simple fact would be her answer as to why the marriage counselling didn't work). But it was different now, there were deeper things at work, a current beneath the waves.

"I'm too tired to forgive him. Too tired to fight the doubt. My mother talks about love with my father like it was a fairy tale and I thought I had that… I really did." Her voice broke and she took a minute to recompose herself. The months of hurt flooded back to her in a blaze and jabbed at her tear ducts. They made her eyes prick.
"How does she describe him?"

Michonne chuckled, licking her lips. "Kind hearted, soft, just like her. A man of little words. He matched her perfectly. In company however, his voice would boom in a room and he would light up an audience just so she didn't have to force herself." Michonne sighed, shaking her head. "He was gentle and intelligent and looked at her with the kind of love people festered in their eyes when their world was coming to an end."
It was hard to comprehend this. To open up so much about her past to a technical stranger. But here she was, doing it, the time ticking by like it didn't mean a thing.

"It's funny, because Rick reminds me of him, at times. Some people, they're just so soft, no matter how tough they want to be on the exterior. He's always been so transparent. Smart. Not as insecure as Mike has been the past few months." Her tongue got stuck between her teeth and she chuckled again, loosely this time. "I know Rose, I have a crush on this man. I'm in the process of overcoming it."

Air was sucked in between Rose's cheeks. "Michonne, excuse me for saying this, but do you think that maybe this marriage isn't meant to work?" The quick glance from Michonne made her place her palms out before her. "Hear me out. I've been in this game a while and sometimes… people force things that just aren't meant to be. Call it nature, the sinking ship fallacy, whatever… but it happens. And its not always healthy."

Rolling her neck, Michonne looked at the ceiling. "You sound so much like my cousin Sasha." She laughed, an easy laugh that was so light she didn't feel it pass her lips.
Did she want to make it work?
She understood the sinking ship fallacy. So much had been worked towards, years of her life wasted down a drain of lies and deceit. Would she just walk away? Would she even be able to start afresh?

Her mind envisioned Rick at the other end. But then it also envisioned Jessie. Michonne was still unsure whether Rick liked her back, the small drunken confession not enough for her as he seemed to forget it the next day. Their texts had flowed like normal after, as if nothing had ever happened.
She was strong and independent. But she had been these two things before and it got hard. It was okay, she knew, to crave love. But it wasn't okay when it kept you up at night and made you wonder just what you were missing out on.

"Maybe, you should take a break from counselling." Michonne's eyes widened. "I'll tell Mike something that doesn't bring too much alarm."
They sat in silence for a minute, both gathering their thoughts.
"Michonne, you are a smart woman. I can't tell you where to go, I can only lead you to the water. Go with what makes you at peace, even if the beginning looks hard. The ending is what matters." Rose got up, stretching to the sky and slipping her shoes back on. She went back to her chair. "So many of my clients want answers, but I just lead them to their own truth."

Michonne thought about her own truth. About how it had tried to make itself apparent to her and how she had squished it down until it was nothing but a tight ball stuck between her ribs.
"Does my truth make me a bad wife? Mother? Person?" She spat, almost ashamed of herself. Of what she could be potentially admitting.
"You say that this is all for Andre?" Michonne's nod prompted her on. "Then make sure your happiness is at it's highest. It's what he feeds off. I've seen so many cases where kids have grown up and displayed negative traits all because their parents were unhappy where they were. You don't want to do that to him, do you?"

Tears sprung to Michonne's eyes as the clouds began to clear in her head. Things were looking brighter and brighter was good, for her, for him, for life.

"Thank you Rose."

All she needed was validation.

Michonne watched Andre as he slept, the clock hitting 14 minutes past 11. She breathed heavily. The session had been fulfilling. When Mike had asked her how it went, she had said it was eye opening and left it at that.

Looking at him now, the peacefulness on his face, she was determined to keep it there, for as long as she could.

So later, when she decided to tiptoe into bed, she curled and faced Mike. Watched the growing lines in his face that reminded her of how long they had been together. Listened to his breathing and figured how used she must have been to the sound. She placed a hand on his heart and winced at the strength of it. So out of tune with hers.

It wasn't as though she didn't love him. Parts of her did. Parts of her that are still able to ignore what he had done and what he sometimes continued to do when it suited her. But, all of her used to love him and she missed that feeling of security. The feeling of knowing you could fall back carelessly and the other person would be there to catch you.
And it hurt, to realise where they were. She wanted to wake him up and ask him why. Parts of her wanted to know now so she could let go of whatever was still inside her. Delicately, she placed a finger on his cheeks, receiving a slight whimper from him in his sleep. They used to talk about what they dreamed about and she would pour her heart out, about the meanings of them, about how she saw them having more kids and it was a sure fire sign of their future. But she had been foolish. And she wished she hadn't been.

She wished she had never loved him. Had never settled down with him. But the by-product was Andre and she wasn't sure if she could ever love anything as much she did her son.

Her heart ached, fought with itself in her chest, trying to choose where to sit. She didn't want to feel this anymore, it was less than she was, she wasn't supposed to be here.

She would fix this.

She could fix all of this.

By leaving him.

But the thought terrified her to the bone.

A/N: Ooooh look, I'm on a roll.