NINE
Just before five p.m. Kate arrived in front of the three-story brownstone out of which couples' therapist Sylvia Rosenberg worked and presumably lived. With each click of her heels against the concrete, the words, don't want to be here, echoed in her mind. She knew these sessions would be fruitless and it frustrated her to no end that she had to spend an hour of her week on them, but the hope that it would ultimately make the divorce end in a smooth and civil manner was what made her agree.
From the street Kate could see the sign for Rosenberg Counseling hanging on a door that led into the basement level of the home, so she grabbed the metal railing and walked the seven steps down to the entrance. The door swung open into a very small waiting area, which had four empty chairs. Directly in front of her she saw a door that was closed and labeled as a restroom. To her left, there was a door that was cracked slightly open, but not enough so that she could really see inside. She waited awkwardly in the space for a moment before the door opened behind her and she took two steps forward so as not to crowd the entry way.
"Hello," Grant said pleasantly. Kate gave him a curt nod in response. "Is Sylvia here?"
"I don't know; I've been here less than a minute."
Grant was the one who had selected the therapist. Evidently, she was recommended by one of his colleagues. As she had no interest in saving her marriage, she didn't much care about the therapist chosen, but she did take note that her half of the fees amounted to just under a hundred dollars, which she found rather steep. She half thought about searching for the woman's practice on the internet to see what kind of accreditation she had but hadn't a chance yet due to her current investigation which involved several murders that seemed to be related, though they had yet to find an official connection.
"Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Symon."
Kate turned to see the partially opened door was now all the way open and a petite, gray-haired woman now stood just in front of it. "I'm Sylvia Rosenberg—please come inside and have a seat."
Grant gestured for Kate to go ahead into the room, and she did. Finding only a love seat available for the patients to sit on, Kate sat as far to one side as she possibly could. She put her purse on the floor by her feet and then crossed her left leg over her right and folded her arms across her chest. Grant sat down beside her and loosened his tie slightly.
Sylvia shut the door to her office and then sat in the high-back chair perpendicular to the love seat. She placed a notebook and pen down in her lap, then smiled at the couple. "Well I received all your paperwork yesterday and everything is in order for us to just dive right in. First, I'd like each of you to start by saying why you're here in your own words."
When Sylvia looked to Grant, he said, "We just don't seem to be on the same page anymore. Without either of us realizing, we drifted apart, but I don't want us to drift—I want us to find a way back together."
Kate gazed at her husband incredulously. Not only did his statement sound incredibly rehearsed, but it also sounded completely out of touch with reality. She had very, very much realized that they had drifted apart. Then again drifting apart implied that they were once on the same page together, and the more she thought about it, she genuinely wasn't sure if that was the case.
"And you Mrs. Symon?" Sylvia asked her after a moment of silence.
Kate looked the woman in the eye and said, "I want a divorce."
Sylvia's expression didn't falter despite Kate's borderline aggressive tone. "I see. That is quite a strong statement. Can you tell me why you feel so strongly about this?"
"Grant's right; we're not on the same page. The problem is: we're not even in the same book. We started dating when I was nineteen and got married a few years later. I'm just in a completely different place than I was then." When boiled down into its most simplified form, the fact of the matter was she simply was not remotely close to the same person she was when they first got together and that, in the most basic sense, is what made them incompatible at present.
"Well so am I but I still want to be married to you." Then looking to the therapist Grant added, "We're love matches."
Kate scoffed. "So? That shouldn't have anything to do with this."
"The love match system in many cases does not lead to divorce—that's why it's done."
"I understand that, but I also don't agree that DNA dictates who you are. Sure, it indicates physical attributes, but not our emotions or opinions, which have much more of an influence on our compatibility with others," Kate said.
The therapist was quiet for a moment before clasping her hands together and saying, "Okay let's choose one topic—just one topic. Something you disagree on the most. Taking out the garbage perhaps?"
Kate almost laughed. If only it were that simple. Then again, she very much doubted that couples whose largest fight was taking the garbage out actually ended up in couples' counseling.
"Issues with her job sparked our most recent fight," Grant said.
"Okay, good. What is your job?"
"NYPD Detective."
Sylvia wrote something down and then looked at Grant. "And what do you believe the largest issue is with her job?"
"She dedicates far more energy to it than to our family. She works unpredictable, long hours and often neglects personal responsibilities for it."
Turning to Kate, she asked, "And how do those statements make you feel?"
Kate took in a slow breath to prevent herself from lashing out with too much emotion. "I think they're unfair. I do work unpredictable, long hours, but that's something I accepted when I became a cop, because that's in the nature of the job. I'm protecting the citizens of this city by removing criminals from the street and bringing justice to victims."
"So, you feel the good nature of your work justifies these sacrifices?"
"Yes. Also, I think Grant is being too critical when he says I'm neglecting personal responsibility. Yes, I have occasionally had to cancel plans or showed up late to something, but he makes it sound like it's a daily occurrence; it's not."
"What do you think of your wife's position in law enforcement, Mr. Symon?"
Grant shrugged before saying, "Well what can I say? She's helping the city not dealing drugs to children, so of course it's good, but... you know when we first got together, she was going to be a lawyer like me."
"And what changed?"
"Both of my parents died," Kate answered.
The therapist's brow tightened. "I'm sorry to hear that. Was it in an accident?"
Kate shook her head and explained further. "My mother was murdered. A few years later my father lost his battle with alcoholism."
"I see. And was this before or after you were married."
"Before," Kate answered, though she didn't see how it was relevant.
As both of her parents had been lawyers, Kate had a law career in mind before she even met Grant. During her senior year in high school was when she'd officially made the decision and, even though she was aware of Grant's existence by that point, she hadn't given one thought to him during her decision-making process. It was, after all, her life; she was the one who had to live every day with her choice, not him.
When her mother's murder had been written off as an unsolvable act of random violence, Kate had struggled to accept that lack of resolution. How could a crime just not be solved? Surely there had to be evidence? Surely there had to be leads? When the police's answers to these questions were continually "there isn't" and "there aren't" Kate had first toyed with the idea of going into law enforcement to prevent other families from having the same stress and confusion as she did if their loved ones were killed. She and Grant had been newly together at that time, and while he had been sympathetic to her grief, he also continually encouraged her to move on.
Over the next few years her father's heath was a continual rollercoaster ride of better and worse. When he finally did lose his life, she felt as though the person who had taken her mother from her was at least partially responsible, which brought back to life her desire to help others find the justice she could not. If he hadn't passed before she was done with her undergraduate degree, she probably would have continued on to law school, but as was said: things happened for a reason, and now that she'd been working with the NYPD for several years she knew without question it was where she was meant to be.
"But it wasn't a discussion." Grant chimed in. "She just came to me and said she was going to the police academy."
"I was twenty-one and still in college, which is still an appropriate time to change your mind on a career. It wasn't like I decided to move to France without discussing with you. It didn't affect our day to day lives."
"Didn't it though?" Sylvia asked. "Insofar as stress level, a police officer who faces gun-toting criminals and a lawyer who works behind a desk are quite different, are they not?"
"See, she gets it." Grant said, sounding a little bit too proud. "It's too much, Kate. High adrenaline. Guns. Fights. She and her partners are bonded like brothers in war."
"Does that make you feel jealous, Grant?"
Unable to resist, Kate said, "Yes Grant, would you like to talk about your jealousy issues?"
His head whipped towards her and his gaze narrowed. "Is it jealousy if my concerns are very much based in reality?"
"What concerns are those, Mr. Grant."
"One of her 'partners,'" he said with air quotes, "isn't even a cop. He's a desperate writer seriously lacking creativity who follows her around for 'research' but it's obvious there's more going on there."
Sylvia leaned towards them with her forearms balanced on her knees. "In what sense?"
"Well, he's obviously attracted to her, possibly in love with her, which would be entirely inappropriate sine he's married, too. The book he wrote last year—disgusting. He created a new character whose physical description is nearly identical to that of my wife. She has a sexy name and finds herself in all these tawdry scenarios, that-"
"I thought you didn't read the book." Kate interjected, vividly recalling a fight shortly after the book cover and teaser description for Heat Wave were released. Grant had shouted that he would never be caught dead with that book in his hand; a month later she had attended the release party with Ryan and Espo while he stayed behind in protest.
He gave his suit jacket a little tug and sat up straighter in his chair. "I didn't, but I've heard enough about it to know that it was in no way appropriate."
"And what is your response to that, Mrs. Symon?"
"Richard Castle and I have a working relationship—a partnership. He is a civilian consultant with the NYPD and he has been very helpful in solving several of our difficult cases."
"This isn't a statement for the Times Kate." Grant snipped.
Sylvia cleared her throat. "I think what your husband is getting at is that your comments reflect the NYPD's position more than your own. How do you feel about Mr. Castle?"
Kate took a moment to consider the question. She was not yet in a place to give a one hundred percent truthful answer, as her feelings for Castle still felt so new and precious; she wanted to keep them between the two of them for just a little longer. Still, in the interest in making sure Grant understood her position was as far from reconciliation as it could get, she needed to be as honest as she could.
"He's one of my best friends and…and a very important person in my life."
"So, your feelings towards him are that of a friendly nature?" Sylvia asked. Grant scoffed, and she turned to him asking, "Is that not your viewpoint, Mr. Symon?"
"I have long suspected the time they spend together is excessive and it has led to them having an affair."
"I'm not having an affair," Kate responded, monotonously.
"And how are you defining affair?"
"Having sexual relations."
Sylvia nodded and made a note in her notebook. Then she asked Kate, "Have you ever heard of an emotional affair."
"Yes," she mumbled, feeling annoyed that her cheeks had begun to heat at the mention of the term.
"Would you categorize your feelings towards this gentleman under the category of an emotional affair?"
Kate glanced over at Grant, who was staring at her with intensity. She shifted her legs so that her right was now crossed over her left and then said, "Possibly, though that was never intentional. It…it was a friendship and that was all. My relationship with him began no differently than with any of the other partners I've worked with. But…we have a connection. I can't explain it and I certainly don't understand it, but…he understands why I'm driven to solve crimes, to solve those mysteries, because he is too. That's how it started—an innocent connection and a shared goal. Then I suppose as time went on it got a little less innocent. Emotionally, not physically," she clarified.
"And how does that make you feel, Mr. Symon?"
"Hurt. Upset. Betrayed. Frustrated. I don't know why this writer understanding her is any different than me understanding her."
"But the thing is: you don't." Kate turned to him, shaking her head. "I honestly don't think you ever did. I was just so scared, broken, and alone that I wanted someone to pull me to shore. You did that and I'm grateful for it, but...now I know I can pull myself to shore. I just need someone who wants to walk along the beach with me, not drag me behind them while they blaze the path for us."
Grant stared at her quietly for almost half a minute before turning to the therapist and asking, "What do you think?"
She clasped her hands together and leaned back in her chair. "I think there are certainly issues we could discuss and work through, but both of you must be willing and open to the idea of reconciliation for those conversations to work. Perhaps you need to take some time to think about it after our session."
Grant sighed heavily and nodded. "Yeah, yeah we probably should." He looked over at Kate and she nodded to, but only because she didn't want to argue any more in that moment. Reconciliation wasn't on her radar; the only thing she was interested in was the lowest stress divorce possible.
Richard Castle stepped out of the elevator on his floor, jiggling his keys in his left hand. He was running a bit late, so he walked as swiftly as he could towards his apartment. When he finally lifted his gaze and saw the woman sitting on the ground beside his door, he cursed internally and bleated out, "Oh! I'm so sorry I'm late. I thought I might just beat you here."
"No problem," she said, pushing herself up into a standing position. "I know it's unusual that I can get out of a shift on time, but it does happen occasionally."
He gave her a quick one-armed hug before unlocking the apartment door and shrugging out of his blazer. "I guess I should give you a key or something, so you're not stuck outside."
She gave him a curious look. "You make it sound like I was standing out in the rain or something. It's fine, Castle; Eduardo let me up and I don't mind waiting a few minutes."
"Okay." He hung his coat in the closet and then turned to watch her unzip her boots and toss them into the bottom of the closet with the rest of her shoes. Then, unable to resist his strong urge, he reached out to cup her jaw and brush his thumb over her cheek. "It's good to see you."
She turned her head to kiss his palm. "It's good to see you, too. How was arbitration?"
His expression dropped immediately; hers fell a moment later. "Oh…not good?" she guessed.
He grumbled as he walked into the kitchen, washed his hands, and then began to get out some things for their meal that evening. "I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I was delusional enough to think that maybe it wouldn't. Meredith had been so light and jokey about everything, I thought she was just going to be so happy about the payout I offered she would just go along with everything else we were splitting up but…" He paused and grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack beneath the counter, not sure how he'd actually made it to that point without any alcohol.
"She wants Alexis."
Kate's brow winkled. "What do you mean wants her?"
His stomach rolled in his gut as he said, "She wants full custody."
Kate made a little croaking sound as her jaw dropped. "You're kidding. God, Rick." She hurried over to him and thew her arms around his shoulders. Pressing her lips against his neck she breathed out, "I'm so sorry."
"Thanks." He hugged her back tightly for a moment before pulling back so he could pour their wine. He poured an extra-large serving in his glass and took a large gulp right away.
"Where is she? Alexis?"
"With Meredith—it was already prearranged that she'd have her tonight. The lawyers suggested that during the separation period we aim for a 50/50 split, which is fine-ish…except that's far more parenting that Meredith has ever done and I just…" He dropped his head as the crushing weight of terror fell even firmer upon his shoulders. "What am I going to do if I lose her?"
Kate's hand curled firmly around his forearm as she said, "You're not; you're not going to. This is absurd. Surely, your lawyer told me that."
"Oh yeah, he did. I'm the primary contact for her school, for her doctor, for the dentist...everything. It's all me. At best Meredith is listed as a secondary contact when two contacts are required. The school records show me attending every parent-teacher meeting and I'm the guardian on record for all her medical stuff. The lawyer says there's no way we don't get at least 50/50 custody in the end, but even that…"
"That's not what you want," Kate concluded for him.
He turned his head to look at her. "Well, no, but more than that: I'm worried about how this will affect Alexis."
"How's she been doing?"
The corners of Castle's lips began to creep upwards as fatherly pride filled his chest. His little girl was becoming more and more incredible with each passing day. "I think she's doing pretty well. She was old enough to understand that Meredith and I haven't exactly been thrilled with each other the last couple years. We didn't fight too much in front of her, but I'm sure she heard us on occasion. And its not like we we've been physically affectionate with each other in front of her for…I don't know, years probably. But, still, it's a change.
"She did really well those first two weeks, but I think it's starting to hit her a bit more now that she'll be shuttling back and forth between two different apartments. I can tell she's worried a little bit about having the belongings she needs in both places. It's hard because I can't really help her with that. I mean sure I can buy her duplicates of anything she needs, but that's not quite the same, you know? And neither Meredith nor I know what it would be like to be a child of divorced parents so it's new for all of us. I think she's doing the best she can be given the circumstances and uncertainties of the future. She just keeps telling me she wants me to be happy, which is just so like her. Oh, and two days ago she asked if she was getting a stepmother."
Kate's eyes went wide. "Really? What brought that up?"
"She must have brought it up with her friends at school. Stepmothers get a bit of lore from kids these days since not many have them."
"Ah…makes sense. What did you tell her about the stepmother?"
"I didn't get too specific. I just told her that it was likely I would marry again, which would technically give her a stepmother, but I promised to make sure that whomever that woman was would love her just as much as I did."
Castle thought back to the tight hug Alexis gave him after their conversation and the ache that pulsed through his heart caused his upper body to hunch forward such that he felt he needed to place his hand against the counter for support. For her entire life, Castle had been at his daughter's side. He'd comforted her through all her sleepless nights. He helped her bathe and combed all the tangles out of her long hair. He'd bandaged every scrape and kissed every bruise. They'd been apart when he and Meredith were on vacation or when he went on a book tour, but he'd never gone more than two weeks without seeing her—and those two weeks had been excruciating. If Meredith got full custody, he had no idea how long he'd go in between visits. The thought of it being a month—or longer—was almost too crushing to bear.
"I don't want to lose her," he whispered, his voice harsh with emotion.
Kate squeezed his arm and said softly, "You won't. I promise I will help you in any way that I can. I bet Ryan and Espo would be character witnesses if you asked. I'd be one too, except-"
"Oh god," he groaned, "Meredith would lose her mind."
She gave him a wry smile. "Right."
Castle blinked back some of the tears that were threatening to fall, stood upright, and set his shoulders. "It'll all workout. I just have to keep telling myself that. Sad as it is to say out loud: Meredith doesn't want full custody of Alexis. Deep down, she has to know that about herself. She couldn't handle it nor would she want to sacrifice the parts of her social life she'd have to sacrifice in order to make it work. She's just...being vindictive."
"Why though? I'm sure you're giving her plenty of alimony."
The writer grumbled. "You have no idea. But I bet her lawyer told her she could get an extra few thousand a month for child support if she had full custody."
"An extra few thousand a month?" Kate asked, jaw agape.
He nodded. "She may also be salty about the fact that she's trying to negotiate for a percentage of my residual sale profits from all the Derrick Storm books. I was trying to get her to settle for a lump sum because…well, first, I don't want to have to deal with her every month for the rest of forever. And second, residuals are volatile as you can imagine. I don't really want to deal with her complaining about checks that are lower than the month before, you know? And on top of all that I feel…possessive, I guess, over Storm. I created that character before I met her; he's mine, just like Nikki is ours."
Kate looked at bit startled. "Wha—no, Nikki is yours."
He gazed at her steadily before lifting his hand to cup her jaw and saying, "No, ours. Always ours."
She lifted her hand and gave his wrist a squeeze before asking, "What can I do to make you feel better?"
"I feel better just having you here," he promised. This exact scenario was what he hoped for the life in the not so distant future. Spending his evening with Kate, decompressing from the day, comforting each other, or celebrating each other depending on the day. That was what he longed for, and he knew with her he would have it. They just needed to get through their divorces first.
"Oh! Hey!" He gasped, the fog of his dilemma lifting enough for him to remember what had been going on with her that day. "Didn't you have a therapy session this morning?"
"Yeah, over lunch. Our third and final."
Castle's brow arched. "Final? Grant agreed to the divorce?"
"Well…not exactly, but even he admitted during therapy that he doesn't think there's anything he can do that will make me want him again. It was…a difficult moment for him, but I'm glad he's starting to understand. I told him after the session that I wouldn't be doing another, and he said okay, but that he needed some time to process, which is fair."
"Sounds like this session wasn't too stressful then," Castle said, pulling her into a hug. He had been nervous about her going to this session particularly since the prior one had left her in tears. She'd come to him that night distraught and worried that her career had consumed her to an unhealthy level, as that was the subject of the therapy session. Grant had accused her of caring about her cases more than she did their marriage even since she'd been an officer in training. Worse yet, he accused her of caring about victims more than she cared about him.
Castle had comforted her as she cried and promised her that what he said wasn't true. Caring deeply about her job was what made her so incredible at her job. She had one of the highest case closure rates in Manhattan and that was something to be celebrated not chastised. She was, in his view, incredible, but he understood that her husband's words had rattled her confidence.
Apparently, Grant had also told her that her job dedication was merely a continued manifestation of her obsession with her mother's murder case. Hearing this made Castle's blood boil, but he put his own feelings over Grants heartless accusation aside to focus on her and to share a little bit more of himself.
Castle knew that Kate had briefly gone down the rabbit hole of trying to solve her mother's murder, only to come up with no more leads or answers than the detectives had all those years before. Worse yet, she had gotten in trouble with her captain for doing this digging because at the time she was technically still a patrol officer. She had told Castle about this incident fairly early on in their partnership when he'd asked about her mother's death. She'd told him that the incident still ate at her, partially because a piece of her had truly believed she could solve the case, but mostly because she could have been fired for her actions, and then she wouldn't have been able to do the thing she felt she was meant to do: help people. At that time, they'd talked about events in one's past shaping their present selves, but he hadn't fully shared all of his truths with her at that time.
As she huddled against him, tearful unsure, Castle told her the secret he'd carried with him for nearly thirty years. During his mischievous youth, he'd been exploring a wooded area and inadvertently stumbled upon a masked man leaving a girls' body in the woods. He hadn't been aware of what he was looking at until the man caught him by the scruff of the neck and threatened his life if he ever told anyone what he saw. It was then he realized that the woman was dead—and the man had murdered her. He did as the man asked and never told a soul, but for many years felt guilt about the woman left behind, wondering if anyone had ever found her body and identified her so her family could be notified. The event had also started his brain wondering how a person could kill another. What drove them? What motivated them? How could they bring themselves to carry out the act? This was why he'd begun to write about murders and, later, why he found such fulfillment in working with her.
Kate had been understandably stunned by the story, but they continued talking for another hour until he finally helped her see that good, bad, or otherwise, they were the people they were that day because of how the events in their past shaped them. No shame existed in that, and no one should ever make them feel bad about the choices they made as long as they were comfortable with them.
"Yeah, it was definitely a better session," she said. "I think it'll still take a few more months to finalize everything, but we don't have any shared property other than the apartment and the furniture inside. I'm not even going to make him buy me out of half the apartment. I just want out what I've paid in."
Castle almost laughed at how sensible her approach was. "Compared to what I'm going through, your reasonable approach to this is very sexy."
She let out a loud laugh. "Thanks, I think?"
"Oh, that was a compliment."
"Good to know." She hesitated a moment but then reached out to take his hand. "Um…speaking of that: I think I'm getting closer to the idea of increasing the physical intimacy between us. What are your thoughts on that?"
He let out a long breath through his nose and brought up his free hand to scrape against the stubble on his chin. They hadn't mentioned the subject for nearly a month—not since the first time the subject was brought up—so he was glad she was checking in. Still, he didn't have a concrete answer. "Well, I'm torn between my intense attraction to you, especially knowing we're alone in this apartment...and knowing that I'm probably a bit too furious at my soon to be ex-wife to be in the headspace I should be in before I make love to you."
She gave him a little smile. "That's totally reasonable."
He nodded and reluctantly admitted, "I gotta work through some of this Alexis custody stuff first, I think."
She stepped forward and cupped his cheeks with both her hands. "Don't sound so apologetic, Rick. I completely understand. I'm not quite there yet either."
He settled his hands at her waist and held her close for several moments before asking, "Wanna make out a little bit after dinner?"
"Yeah!"
He winked at her. "Good. Now c'mon and help me chop some of these veggies for the stir-fry."
She nodded and smiled. "Absolutely."
A/N - Fyi there is only one more chapter + the epilogue remaining :)