A/N: Apologies for the delay in updating. Life happened. Hope this more than makes up for it…at least just a little! :) Also, please overlook the formatting issues.

Week Three — Part Three

A sprouting multitude of deep-seated issues brewing beneath the surface in which neither spouse is emotionally able to confront.

1. Infidelity

2. Miscarriages

3. Prescription abuse

4. In-law boundaries

Adam paused the ballpoint of his pen along the lined paper as he glimpsed at Peter and Alicia sitting on the couch in a stony silence, neither daring to look at the other as they waited for him to regenerate this session. His eyes floated down to his notes again and briefly glazed over the cursive musings before focusing back on them. The short list of observed contentions would multiply once this assembly was over, he was certain. Their chorused betrayal and whispered, grueling loss were major issues which had them at a crossroads without any idea how to get back on track.

Propping his elbow on the armrest of the heirloom chair, he balanced his notepad on his knee and held his fisted hand over his lips as he analyzed the prostrated couple that was seated on divergent sides with their heads hung low and arms defensively crossed over their chests. The emotional task of restoring this man and wife showered him in a plethora of doubt and anxiety, filling his gut like a dormant twenty-pound heavy weight. That sinking mistrust told him that this may possibly be their toughest session yet. For him anyway.

"Would either of you like to share how you are feeling?" he began.

Their heads slowly lifted to attention as they looked at each other, then back to him. Again, neither said a word. Adam sighed as he pushed his glasses down to the bridge of his nose and eyed them. Which one to start with was always his greatest dilemma. Both were unpredictable.

"Alicia. "

She hesitantly met his gaze, her iris's resembling a deeper, smoldering hue of hunter green. Her usually welcome and steadfast orbs flashed him a warning that said she had revealed enough today so he better not push for more.

"You recounted a very difficult experience. One that you have never spoken about until now, I assume?"

She nodded.

Running the tip of his pen along his cheek, Adam shifted his focal point to Peter, whom was now sitting forward, his arms propped on his knees like he was preparing himself for battle again. Predictably unlike his wife who had resumed her trademark, nonchalant repose in the corner of the seat.

"Have you two ever talked about any of the things you voiced? And by talking, I don't mean arguing. I mean, have you ever sat down and had a cogent discussion about the loss of your children, about Peter's infidelities, or your mother-in-law even?"

Alicia glanced to her husband as she leaned back, pressing her shoulders further into the cushion. She refused to speak. The visceral anger and tension still had her seething. If Peter so much as said one wrong thing, she was done. Without a second of vacillation.

The stream of emotions rushing through her were static. She was upset and distraught, and wasn't sure when those feelings would simmer down. What possessed her to sit here on this couch again, even she didn't comprehend. She had rationalized in her mind, when they were trying to rescue her from the bargaining chip of fleeing, that she owed it to herself. But now she was beginning to second guess that choice.

"No, we haven't," said Peter. "The topic of my mother is a lost cause and in regards to my betraying our marriage vows and her miscarriages …" He looked at Adam, his eyes resembling a far away look. "We just never … really discussed those."

"Why? Why did you two choose to go through the motions with two heavy grievances looming overhead?"

Peter sighed as he leaned back and widened his gapped legs. He extended a hand back to rest on his neck and began rubbing the tight muscles, hoping the eased rigidity would provide him a clear conscience.

"I guess, along the way, we forgot how to communicate."

Adam watched Alicia the entire time he spoke. She had checked out of this session. He knew that. Her avoidance of eye contact by staring down into her lap as she pinched the bridge of her nose told him she was playing the role of stressed and uninterested, another non-verbal defense mechanism signaling to leave her alone.

But a marriage wasn't just one person. And neither was couple's therapy.

"Alicia, would you agree with Peter? That you two forgot how to communicate?"

She lowered her hand from her face and slowly looked in the direction of her husband. His confused and somber eyes only increased her apprehension of having to sit here for another thirty minutes.

Meeting Adam's mask of adroit patience, she reflected on his question a second longer, then shrugged. "I suppose."

They were going to make it really hard for him this time. Really hard.

"Was there ever a fluid line of communication in your marriage? Before the miscarriages, before the infidelities," he looked to Peter, "before your mother became an issue. Tell me a little bit about your marriage before all of these things became a catalyst as to why you're here now."

Peter glanced to his wife. "Would you like to tell him?"

Her sad eyes stared back into his paralleled spheres. She wasn't in a position to say much more than was required. For she felt as if a knife was still lodged in her heart.

"You go ahead," she whispered.

Nodding, he rocked his head from side to side as he thought for a moment.

"During the last three and a half years, I guess … we grew apart a bit. Probably even before that." Sighing, he peered up into the ceiling, juggling the recesses of his brain. "It was when I was promoted to State's Attorney. Our kids were twelve and eleven at the time." He folded his arms back across his chest and tilted his head to the side. "We had date nights, I still randomly sent her flowers and catered to her as often as I could. But then, I got busy with work and she was …" He shrugged. "She was at home. We forgot … about us. Each other. But it wasn't always that way."

Alicia stared at his profile, her eyes softening as she listened to him with perked ears.

"Years ago, while I was partner at a law firm downtown, here, in the loop, when case loads were lax, I had more time then to be at home. My hours were flexible during those periods. I was afforded the rare opportunity to be a fully involved father and husband." He angled his head to face her, a smile beginning to adorn his mouth. "There were days I couldn't wait to get home just to see their faces." Breaking their gaze, he looked back to Adam. "We used to talk on the phone multiple times a day then. Whether it was her calling just to confirm what's for dinner or asking if I could pick up something from the market on the way home. Or as simple as me phoning just because I wanted to hear her voice. Our communication was strong then."

Her lips contorted into a glum smile, the expression reflecting in her too distant eyes.

"How about when conflicts arose?" asked Adam.

He inhaled deeply as he pursed his lips, thinking long and hard for a minute. He was leery of the words he said. For he knew she didn't want to talk right now, but he couldn't help but feel this was some form of a test. That at one failed recollection, they would be back to square one.

"We always talked them through. Whether it was concerning our kids, finances, my career or just us. We always talked a problem through. No matter how big or small. Alicia used to joke we would run out of things to talk about because we were always talking."

Adam smiled. "So why did that communication cease during a time when it was critical?"

He nonchalantly swayed his shoulders. "I'm not sure. I think" — he looked at Alicia — "we really wanted the first baby, and then it was gone. We didn't know how to accept that, to deal with it. The first miscarriage was something we never thought could happen."

The memories settled upon him in a nimble of stress as he thought of how their lives went from bliss to a temporary demolition in the blink of an eye.

"I wanted to talk about it but Alicia was too devastated that she couldn't. And then one day" — the pitch of his voice lifted, sounding as if he was mesmerized — "after weeks of being in some unreachable state, she woke up and was normal again. As though nothing happened. I didn't want to mention the miscarriage for fear of her going back to that place. So, we just swept it under the rug and moved on."

Adam narrowed his eyes. "Even after you came home and found her passed out in the middle of your bed from what you feared was an overdose. You never, spoke about that time?"

Alicia clamped her eyes shut, wanting badly to leave the room. She felt as if she was nailed to a stake and they were continuously casting stones at her as she remained stretched out, unable to control the bandages being ripped off her soul.

"No. It happened, and we, moved on."

"Did you ever want to talk about them? About the miscarriages and … that day, I mean."

Peter tiredly blinked as he nodded. "Well, sure. Mainly when I began to run out of excuses to tell our kids."

"They asked you questions about me?" she asked in low voice.

Adam arched his brow at her sudden attention. If anything, he could tell, this woman put her reputation and role as a mother above all.

"Yes." His heart softened considerably upon seeing the tears welling back into her eyes. "They used to ask me all the time when I took them to school in the mornings, 'what is wrong with Mom?'.

She blinked rapidly, trying to control the instant burning sensation of air being sucked from her lungs. I wasn't there for my children when they needed me. I wasn't … Closing her eyes, she pushed those thoughts from her mind. She wouldn't go back there.

"Alicia, why didn't you talk to Peter about your feelings?"

She swallowed hard as she clasped her hands together. "He was always at work, so I —"

Peter sucked his teeth and shook his head in a spirit of incredulity. "Oh, don't use me being at work as an excuse. I told you over and over to call me whenever you were ready to talk about it."

"But how about the times when I thought I was ready? Each time I called you, you told me you would be working late. That we would talk about it when you got home that night but it never happened because whenever you finally came home, I was asleep." She rolled her eyes. "Was your offer of a listening ear null because I took too long to gain the courage for us to have that discussion when you had to go have sex with your prostitute?"

"Alicia." His head dropped in defeat. "When are you going to forgive me for that? When are you going to accept that you chose to stay in this marriage, despite my infidelities? Or are you staying just to throw that back in my face every chance you get? To remind me of how much I hurt you? Because if that is your reason, I don't see the point in us being here."

She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it. She was expecting his usual verbal outburst, another fight to ensue. But instead, she was met with … dejection? And dare she say, an unwanted push for her to really look at herself. Because everything he said was right.

Why was she singing the same tune and not truly making an attempt to right their wrongs?

Looking at Adam, she knew this time he wasn't going to fill in the blanks for her. He wasn't going to tickle her emotions by prompting her with a question, getting her to respond to this lifeline of an ultimatum Peter said. No. She needed to do what they had been lacking since everything went downhill. She needed to open that shut door and communicate.

"I don't know, Peter. I guess that's a part of the reason why I'm here."

Adam folded his hands together in a praying symbol and held his index fingers over his mouth. As he continued to observe them, he was keenly aware that if he prodded more, things would probably go downhill. A second time.

He recalled of past sessions when couples had shared as much as them, how that wound they had carefully been covering with layer upon layer of denial was unexpectedly torn when he swooped in with the skilled knife to unearth and heal that damage. The entire experience left them simply raw. Alicia and Peter painted that picture right now.

Their emotions still ran high, and he could sense they needed a breather. They had had enough emotional revelations for one day. And the way Peter eyed her right now with that familiar burning look, which said she was stoking the fire of his temper, let him know they should probably lighten the subject matter for the last couple of minutes.

"Which, Alicia, I want us all to have figured out why you both are here once the day of our last session is upon us." He offered a gentle smile. "Ah, if you don't mind, I would like to switch gears for the remainder of this meeting. Feeding off of the theme of your marriage as a whole, the last time we were here, I asked you to write down one goal and one issue each of you wanted to work through and towards in your union and bring those written answers today. Did you?"

"Yeah," said Peter, "I have mine."

He began to reach into his breast pocket. Likewise, Alicia nodded as she reached down into her purse for her smaller notepad and flipped it open.

"Good." He smiled in confidence. At least they were listening. "Alicia, you share first."

Taking a deep breath, she recrossed her legs and stared down at the elegantly printed words on her stationary she jotted down before coming here.

"My issue that I would like us to resolve is forgiveness. I want us to learn to forgive." She laughed lightly. "Actually, I guess that's more of a personal issue."

"No," said Adam, "not personal at all. You both have a great deal of animosity towards the other in certain regards. It's perfectly sensible." He added his own note to the growing list. "And your goal?"

She stared down at the words, emotions rising in her she didn't expect. It was as if she was realizing — no, that she was letting herself feel a sliver of hope for their marriage since its demise.

"To be one again," she whispered. "And if not, that we at least make peace."

Peter stared at her, all but shocked. She really wants us back? Yes, he initially wanted them to have therapy in lieu of getting a second chance. But in the back of his mind, he never believed she was really onboard. He always thought if anything, Adam would aid them in having an armistice divorce.

"Good. Thank you, Alicia." Adam's soothing voice broke his fog as he looked up to see his sophisticated focus back on him. "How about you?"

Clearing his throat, he peered down at the lit screen of his phone and began to read from the typed note. "My issue to resolve is that we communicate more. And my goal is that …" He lowered the phone and pivoted his head in her direction, willing her to meet his gaze. Within seconds their eyes met, and he knew she saw all the love he felt for her pouring from the windows of his soul at the slight opening of her mouth and that little breath she took.

She always did that when he looked at her that way, no matter how many times she argued she didn't; he still knew her better than she knew herself.

"…My goal is that I get my wife back."

Adam watched them stare at the other, seeming as if they were hearing each other for the first time in a long time. They loved each other. Very much. That was plain as day. Despite everything, despite the hurtful words and accusations they dispelled, they still loved each other. Deeply.

This was what he needed to see, to feel. That love. All doubts shattered from his mind whether or not he would be able to get them back on track. He now had everything he needed to fulfill both their goals and resolve those issues.

"Thank you both for sharing. That was a necessary and brave step for this treatment." Lowering his pen to his notepad, he twisted his watch around his wrist and checked the time. "And we will pick up with discussing what you voiced during our next session. I'm afraid we have run out of time for today."

They quickly broke their gaze and nodded. The flush of pink now coating Alicia's cheeks caused Adam to mask a puerile smile. Helping her to release and enjoy being a happy and content woman would be an even greater feat than repairing their marriage, he was positive. But it was a challenge he welcomed.

"Uh, any questions before you leave?"

"No," said Peter.

"Alicia?" asked Adam.

"No. I'm good."

"Before you go, I just want to acknowledge that some lesions were opened here today that neither of you anticipated. And regardless of how painful, I am confident when I say we are all grateful that they were vocalized." Neither agreed; instead they answered his observation with blank stares. They were drained and too exhausted to acknowledge their accomplishment.

"Go home and reflect on today. Just take a moment and … think about everything. From your written hopes for your marriage to your argument. And if during those moments you have a drift of clarity, communicate that with the other. Call, email, text, whatever method you choose. But I want you to learn to communicate like husband and wife again. And report that outcome during our next session."

"What if neither of us has that moment? Or forgets to tell the other?" asked Peter.

Adam laughed, knowing that was the question on the forefront of Alicia's mind.

"Then don't come back until you have," he joked causing them both to crack a smile. "But in all seriousness, I want you both to take a moment when you have the chance and just think about today. And if anything pops in your mind that you wished you would have said to the other, without me sitting here, I want you to communicate that. It doesn't have to be a drawn out conversation. It could be something said in a short and simple two or five-minutes." He laid out his hands in peace as he eyed them in all seriousness.

"I just want you to … talk. Like you used to. I want you to take a premature step and get a taste of what it feels like to be one again … to have your wife back … to communicate … to think about how it could be if you forgave."

Alicia eyed him.

Peter grinned as he rose from the couch and extended his hand out to Adam. "Will do. Thank you, Dr. Lewis. Until next week."

Adam rose as he shook his hand firmly. "Until next week."

He watched as Alicia likewise rose from her entombed posture upon the chair and shouldered her purse. The way she cautiously walked up to him, he wanted to envelope her in a hug. She had crossed a milestone today; they both had. Little did they know, the journey had just begun.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Communicate with him," he whispered back.

Nodding, she walked over to Peter waiting for her at the door. With a wave of their hands, they bid him a goodbye and disappeared from his line of sight.