Week One — Part II

"Peter, does it matter what Alicia thinks of you?"

He eyed his therapist, his gaze darkening.

Adam was quick to explain. "I am assuming so based on your reaction to Alicia's observation. It seems as if her opinion of you matters greatly."

"Of course it does," he snarled. Huffing, he leaned forward and glanced her way while anxiously weaving his hands together. "She's my wife."

Alicia noted his subtle hand movement; an act she had seen all too many times and one that signaled his temper was stewing.

"So, because she is your wife, she is not supposed to see flaws in you that she does not agree with?" Adam thought for a moment about his prior outburst regarding her brother. "She is supposed to remember you as that man in office who only flubbed his role when it benefited her? Or your family?"

Peter rolled his eyes, averting his attention to gazing out the window. A raw nerve had been struck.

Adam recognized the stonewalling and knew that his patient was beginning to feel backed into a corner.

Meanwhile, the clock on the wall continued it's monotonous journey as neither party spoke a word.

"I thought this was about us, not me," Peter finally said, sitting back upright.

"It is about the both of you. But you each are individuals who compose," he overlay his hands to form the shape of a ball, "an us. Sometimes, it is beneficial to first look at each of you respectively, then your relationship as a whole."

Alicia tilted her head to the side, thinking about what he said. "I think…" Both men looked at her, surprised at her non-summoned opinion. "I think it's true that Peter did enter his office fair and level headed. Along the way, perhaps he did get swayed. But for the most part, that never affected how he was at home. How he was at home as father."

Peter looked her way, flashing a smile. Although small, both Adam and Alicia took note.

Their therapist shifted in his chair as he decided to take a step back. Her sudden explanation sounded almost as if it was an excuse, as if it was some form of apology. Like she was protecting him. Just as the natural caretaker in her wanted to replace the bandaid back on the open wound of his bruised ego, which she was on the verge of inadvertently tearing to pieces just minutes ago.

"Did it ever affect his role as a husband?"

Her green spheres settled on his grey ones, gleaming a look of death. Undeterred, Adam only raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

"In some ways," she eventually answered.

Leaning back against the chair, Peter propped his elbow along the armrest as he rubbed the bottom of his lip, narrowing his eyes.

"How?" asked Adam.

She sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest, thinking for a moment.

"He began to work later hours. What started as one or two nights calling home saying that he was going to be late, turned into every night being late. I suppose I just," she shrugged, "got used to it. I was so busy taking care of the house and the kids that I got used to falling asleep alone, to waking up and finding him already gone off to work." She moved her gaze towards the massive bookshelf, avoiding Adam's piercing scrutiny. "I never thought he was doing what he did. I just assumed he was working hard, trying to provide a good life for our family."

"So, Peter's demanding position, as you thought," she nodded, "caused the two of you to," he waved a hand back and forth, "neglect the fact that you were probably growing apart?"

She readjusted herself along the seat. "I never thought about it that way, but," she looked at her husband, "yes."

"With him continuously working later hours, you never had an inkling that maybe it was more than work?"

"Are you taking her side now?" asked Peter, exasperated. He couldn't sit through another second of this one-on-one brazen analysis of how he failed as a husband while sitting in the same room.

Adam's eyes shot back to him, instantly greeted with the blatant annoyance carved into his tense face.

"No, I am not taking sides, Peter. I am trying to understand Alicia's mindset before she became aware of your allegations. I only want to help the two of you get back to having a healthy marriage."

Peter shook his head in disbelief as he loosened his tie, the temperature in the room beginning to grow unbearably hot.

Adam focused back on the woman who was opening up at the speed of a turtle. "As I was asking, Alicia, you never once suspected your husband's infidelity?"

She thought long and hard for a moment. "No."

"Uh huh." Crossing his leg, Adam readjusted the notepad on his lap as he shifted his gaze back to Peter. "Why did you seek extramarital affairs?"

Alicia's eyes fluttered as she swallowed hard. Even to this day, this was a question that she avoided asking him since their fallout just a day after the scandal came to light. And even then, though he never disclosed the true reason why—she didn't buy his excuse of her not being in the mood—apart of her was scared to know the brutal truth of his answer. For once she heard it, whatever shred of love she still felt for him, she knew, would surely die.

"I don't…I…" He sat upright again. "I don't know."

Taking a breath, Adam folded his hands to rest beneath his chin as he eyed both of them, deciding to change course.

"Let's discuss your sexual relationship for a moment. How would you both describe your sexual activity back then? Peter, let's start with you."

"Uhh," he shrugged. "I guess it was healthy. We had sex maybe…twice a week then."

Alicia's head dropped to her chest, wanting badly to escape the room.

"Do you agree, Alicia?"

"Yes." Her timid eyes were slow to meet her husband's. "About twice a week sounds right."

It was her soft voice that led those familiar iris's to look her way, those same iris's which had the inimitable ability to see into her naked soul.

"Was it satisfying for both of you?"

"What do you mean by satisfying?" asked Peter.

Adam laid out an open palm, a gesture meaning that he was being honest and candid with no secret agenda to attack his sexual performance, to strip him of what it meant to be a man.

"I mean, did you find it fulfilling. That each time you two had sex, there was not any form of lack. That you genuinely enjoyed being together that way."

Alicia looked to her husband, once again waiting for him to respond.

Adam was onto her pattern. It was interesting to say the least. Every time he asked the pertinent questions, questions that should eventually lead her to divulge of her feelings, she looked to Peter first. It seemed she was basing her responses off of his. As if she was mindlessly following his lead, like she didn't know her own voice without his. He wondered if this behavior was reminiscent of the rhythm in their marriage—Peter leading the way while she sulked behind in his shadow.

"Then I would say, yes. I was satisfied. Very much so," said Peter.

"Alicia, how about you?"

She exhaled a slow and shaky breath. "Yes, I was satisfied."

Adam's gaze narrowed, choosing to take the leap of being so bold and digging deeper with her, curious as to how she would respond on her own.

"Although you were satisfied with the actual lovemaking, Alicia, did you feel twice a week was enough? Or…did you feel," he shook his head, "No. Did you want, to have sex with your husband more often?"

The warmth washed across her cheeks as she felt Peter's eyes burning a hole into her. She refused to look his way and chose to stare down into her lap.

"Yes," she mumbled.

Adam dipped his head, trying to match her lowered gaze as Peter continued to stare at his wife in shock from her confession.

"Are you uncomfortable discussing this, Alicia?"

She inhaled a breath as she slowly lifted her head and straightened her back. "It's not everyday that I discuss with a therapist my sexual wants and how often my husband and I had sex, so yes, I'm uncomfortable."

Peter snickered, knowing their doctor was unaware of the fire he just lit.

Adam nodded in agreement. "As to be expected. I want to…push you out of that comfort zone you have known for so long so that we can get to the unfeigned heart of the matter." He flashed her a reassuring smile before quickly jotting down a note. "Circling back to what you said. You did want to have sex with Peter more than you were. You never told him that?"

"Once."

Peter looked at her as if she had grown a second head. "When?" he nearly barked, interjecting Adam.

"When I called you at work, on the morning of your forty-eighth birthday." She drew in a deep breath, still remembering the conversation as if it happened yesterday. "I told you I missed you," her voice dropped to a whisper, "that I wanted you, that I wanted us to get back to how we used to be."

He was completely clueless. "Do you mean when we spoke in the hotel that night? Because that," he smirked, "that was a night I remember very clearly."

"You stayed in a hotel on the night of your birthday?" Adam asked.

"Oh yeah. In a suite at the Four Seasons," Peter said smugly, causing Alicia to roll her eyes. "That was a night I would say our sex life definitely increased to almost everyday."

Adam smiled. "Would you care to share more about this night?"

"Honey?" Peter said, wiggling his brows, a wide grin possessing his mouth.

"No, you go ahead."

He overlooked the sarcastic expression on her face and matching tone of her voice as he lolled his head back, reflecting on that day.

"As she said, she called me that morning at work. I thought her telling me those things was some sort of…phone sex prelude for that night." He rubbed the bottom of his chin. "I knew we would have sex that night, we always do on our birthdays. So I didn't read more into it.

"Long story short, I came home, we celebrated with our kids then she surprised me by telling me my mother would watch our children while we spent the night at the Four Seasons for my my birthday. That night, she played up a couple of my fantasies and we had," he looked at her, his eyes low and teasing, "a night I'll never forget."

Alicia looked away from his gaze, remembering it just as vividly as he did. She felt her neck flush with heat.

"But of course, after we had our fun, we talked about how we wanted the spark back…the sex…or just that intimacy between us back."

"And did you get it back?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, for awhile."

"No, we didn't," countered Alicia.

Peter looked at her, surprised. "What do you mean? I started coming home from work early and you were practically waiting for me as soon as I walked through the door, ready and willing."

She overlooked his candor of hinting about the wanton side of her she carefully kept repressed.

"That lasted for about a week, and then you went back to your old ways."

"Which were?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Going to your prostitute!"

He angled his body to face her in a way that signaled he was prepared for the customary battle while Adam continued to observe their interaction.

"You act as if I chose to go to her."

Her mouth fell open, nearly hitting the floor. Had he always been this stupid?

"I'm sure no one unzipped your pants and forced you to have sex with her, Peter." She looked at him like a dog waiting for a bone.

He laid out his hands on the space between them as if he was giving her a peace offering. An offering to not push that button when their emotions weren't properly equipped to handle the consequences.

"I didn't just make the conscious choice overnight to hire a call girl."

"Oh no? Was it before or after you had sex with me did your conscience decide it wasn't enough, so you sought her out?"

He leaned his head back, exhaling slowly. "Neither, Alicia. By the time I slept with Amber—"

"Why do you call her by her first name? Huh? Why is that, Peter?"

He closed his eyes and breathed, trying to control the raging chord of his anger. "By the time I slept with, her," he continued, slower this time, "you and I…we were, in a place. We weren't like we used to be."

Her eyes almost bulged from their sockets as she stared at him in disbelief. The memory replaying in her mind so fresh and painful that she felt her heart had broken into it's millionth piece.

"So your wife, grieving, was all the ammunition you needed to go out and bang," her head retreated back as disgust dripped from her voice, "a hooker?!"

Adam soaked up this newly blurted information like a sponge.

Peter sucked his teeth as he shook his head. "You know damn well that isn't true. You shut me out."

"How could I shut you out when you were never there? Especially then!"

She was shouting now; the outline of the veins lining her delicate neck visible to the naked eye.

Adam continued to watch their heated exchange, taking notes, his focus mostly on Alicia, who was emerging from her shell right before his very eyes.

Peter was on the brink of exploding. "Don't give me that. You know I tried."

"And how did you try, Peter? By coming home at midnight, then climbing into bed with me after you left, Amber?!" She said her name with such revulsion that both Peter and Adam felt their skin crawl. "Or was it Kalinda?"

"I tried, Alicia. You shut me out," he said tiredly.

"Probably because I smelled her on you! But you know what? I was too in love with you to believe you would ever do that to me."

She fought back a tsunami of tears as she turned from him and rested her head within the palm of her hand, trying to gain control of her rapid breathing. The pain threatened to wrack her body as her emotions continued the war of remaining in check.

Adam shifted within his seat and chose to simply observe them. What just transpired was certainly a revealing moment. Both of his patient's were beside themselves with anger that they couldn't bear to look at the other.

Clearing his throat, he ogled them for a minute more, checking to ensure they were done throwing verbal blows. Met with dejected and pensive demeanors, his Irish brogue simmered the tempestuous silence.

"What did you mean by what you said, Alicia?" he cautiously asked. "That your grieving gave Peter the ammunition to bang a hooker, especially then." He slouched further in the chair as he hovered his folded hands beneath he bridge of his nose. "Why were you grieving?"

She was saved from responding, when at that moment, did her cell phone ring.

Swiping her tears, she reached down and dug into her purse, glancing at the caller ID, then at her husband. A knowing look passed between them. Both knew who it was without her even having to say it. He shook his head as his eyes grew hard, watching her quickly shoulder her purse.

"That's right. Go to work. Run to Will," sneered Peter. "When you can't stand to realize you probably should have divorced me when you had the courage to, your boss is always there waiting with open arms, isn't he?"

"Who's Will?" Adam innocently asked.

Ignoring them both, she leapt from the couch and marched towards the door, refusing to look Peter's way.

"Alicia, please don't go," said Adam as he rose from his chair, hoping to stop her.

Gripping the door knob, she didn't look at their therapist, only down at the menacing gaze of her husband.

"Go to hell, Peter," she all but spat in his face.

And with that, she left the room, the door slamming in her retreat.

Folding his hands together, Peter rested them behind his head as he laughed in disbelief. If this was how their first session went, he wasn't sure they would be able to handle any that followed.

Sticking a hand into his pocket, Adam removed his glasses and scratched his forehead as he began to pace in circles.

"Well, I guess next time we can talk more about this Will."

"Good luck with that, Dr. Lewis."

Smirking, Peter closed his eyes, wondering for the first time if it was all a mistake.

A/N: Sorry that this chap is a bit lengthy, but I hope I'm not boring you yet :)