Week Seven: Peter & Alicia—Part II
Adam interpreted their surrendered silence on the subject matter as a time to offer a shred of consolation, though he knew it would likely fall on deaf ears.
"Alicia, why are you questioning the duration of your separation now?"
She slowly looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek. The very rationale was on the forefront of her mind, but she refused to admit it.
"I don't know. Everything seems so up in the air right now."
He eyeballed the fidgeting of her hands and skating eyes moving about the room, indicating to him there was a cause, to which she was purposely concealing. Perhaps afraid to say?
"Your turmoil is normal," he said, speaking clearly, hoping to give her restive mind a bit of peace. "The recent events with your children have acted as sort of a catalyst, evidence that whilst your marriage is going through a transition, it is moving in a positive direction. Having thoughts of pressing forward while you are not quite ready to accept Peter wholly, is normal. As you mentioned, that will happen with time."
While scrawling a notation, he let them fret for a minute more, keeping an eye on them over the rim of his frames. Their frustrations and mannerisms right now mimicked that of the couple he met on the first day of their session: they dared to make eye contact, both brooding with their own piques, anger a safety net. Yet, their children are a common ground. They would do whatever deemed necessary to protect their offspring, just as any loving parents would. It was enlightening that while they remained unified as parents on all fronts, they were short of halved in everything else. However, as the seconds continued to tick by without either uttering a word, he sensed their current divide wasn't just because of a tiff about their kids.
Bookmarking a page, he stabled the notebook on his lap and placed his pen in his breast pocket as he took the initiative to resume their session, breaking their terse silence.
"Peter, you mentioned that you and Alicia would not end up like her parents. What did you mean by that?"
He pivoted his attention in the direction of his wife, annoyance fused with disappointment clouding his mood once he saw she had resumed avoiding eye contact with either of them. Her silence—the reason behind this silence—always got under his skin.
"Alicia has this fear, I suspect ever since the day we married, that we would fail at this…divorce like her parents."
Adam stowed that tidbit of information in the trenches of his brain before commanding her participation.
"Is that true, Alicia?"
"No," she whispered.
"Really?" said Peter, stupefied. "You've had every plausible reason to divorce me and you haven't. I'm not complaining, but I've always thought—known that was the larger reason why you stayed."
"Why I stayed? Really, Peter?!" Her lips curled in disgust. "You make it sound like I have some sort of obligation to you. A duty to stay in this marriage!"
"That's what it felt like when I came home from prison."
She exhaled a slow breath and closed her eyes for a minute, swallowing the choice words she wanted to hurl. Their petty bickering would no doubt snowball into unchartered territory. The longer she festered, the harder it became to curtail their well-rehearsed tango on this couch. But when she opened her eyes and looked at the patient and unwavering gaze of their therapist, she registered she had grown beyond that. They had grown beyond that.
"I-I do love you, Peter. Still. For many reasons. I know I don't say it…but I do. If you forgot that while I stood by you during the past few years when you've had no one else, then…"
She folded her arms across her chest and tucked her lips into her mouth, ceasing the repetitive urge to throw the bare-bone commitment she made to him on their wedding day back in his face.
"After all that's happened, maybe I did have a some guilt in feeling like we were headed for divorce like my parents. But that's not entirely why I chose to stay." She cut her gaze to him, her eyes shooting daggers. "As you put it."
Peter leaned his head back and released an audible tired sigh. She recognized the sound of that sigh, knew his patience was beginning to wear thin.
"Then why, Alicia? Why are you on this couch with me?"
Adam leaned his head to the side, resigning to observe them, waiting for the perfect moment to intercede a breakthrough he felt they were on the brink of struggling to grasp.
"Because of our vows, Peter," she stated-matter-of-factly. He stared down at her, guilt beginning to embody his own frame at her simple comment.
"Because of the promise—commitment we made to each other," she continued, "that we would try every avenue before going down that road. That's why." She looked down at her wedding band again. "And it doesn't feel like it's time to walk away."
"Why doesn't it feel like time, Alicia?" asked Adam.
She swallowed hard. "Our issues aren't one-sided. Peter's," she closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, "affairs, were kind of like an unwanted wake up call." Her posture faltered against the back cushion at the memory. "I met with a divorce attorney shortly after I learned about his allegations. That meeting helped put things into perspective."
Peter slowly looked her way, his brows raised in surprise. Not once was he given clues about the particulars of her testimony, only that she challenged and owned Landry.
"Yes," she answered the question shadowing his face. "I met with a divorce attorney to see what my options were if I chose to walk away."
"But you didn't," he said, sounding more like question.
"I didn't." She inhaled a deep breath. "When I had that meeting, I was so angry at you, Peter. I knew it wasn't wise to have that discussion then, but I needed to. I wanted details of the alternative, I wanted to hear something concrete in all the chaos. Obviously once some of those initial feelings passed, I was glad I didn't file. Your time in prison gave us a needed breather." She met Adam's stoic gaze. "I agreed to participate in fixing this marriage, but not solely because my parents divorced."
"Yet it is a large," he paused a breath, "possibly subconscious reason why?" Adam urged.
She closed her eyes and regretfully nodded.
"A common thread in couples I counsel is that there is a like phobia of their marriages melding into that of their parents. From a realistic viewpoint, I want to remind you both that there are no guarantees in the arena of marriage, no matter how hard couples fight, even with my expertise." He removed his glasses, focusing on the sole person who needed reassuring the most. "Alicia, you are not responsible for the mistakes and choices of your parents. You are not just a byproduct, and you can only be held accountable for the decisions in your own life."
She straightened her back against the seat and exhaled a slow breath. "I know. But I don't want Zach and Grace to experience what my brother and I did. They don't deserve that." Her gazed shifted back to Peter who had submitted to listening, allowing her the floor to speak. They both knew she needed to explore this.
"My parents basically hated each other as the years went on…they no longer liked each other it seemed. I don't think we're at that point. I don't hate Peter, well," she gave a small smile, "anymore. Despite every horrible thing that's happened between us, I still like him. And love him. Crazy, huh?"
"No," said Adam, offering a reassuring smile. "It is not crazy. You two have been together a very long time. Those feelings do not fade overnight, over weeks, or over months."
She looked back to her husband, watching her intently. He wanted to kiss her, she could tell. An advantage of being with him for decades was being able to read his facial expressions like no one else.
"I love you," he gruffly whispered, unable to stop himself when he grabbed her hand again, this time bringing it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. "You'll always be my best friend. I'm always going to like, and love you," he said with a smile. "That's never going to change." Kissing her hand again, he set it back on the seat. "And babe, you have to remember you are not your mother."
She inhaled deeply at his words. "I know."
Adam pocketed the itch to compliment their positive actions for later as Peter dropped another inkling to a matter he was convinced needed to be touched on once more.
"Peter, again, what did you mean when you said Alicia is not her mother?"
"Uh," he looked to his wife nervously, afraid to say the wrong thing and break the symphonious tonality in the room. When she didn't flash him a signal to stop, did he proceed. "My mother-in-law is an…eccentric woman. She and Alicia are opposites in literally every sense of the word. Especially when it comes to," he leaned his head to the side, searching for the right word, "mothering. Alicia takes more of a nurturing, hands-on but disciplined approach, while Veronica is—"
"Peter, don't."
He instantly sealed his lips, respecting her wish, knowing that the topic of she and her mother was a very dark area she never liked to discuss, and he never pressed. The few times they did talk about it ended with her drinking until she was drunk or sobbing.
"Alicia, do you not want to discuss your mother?"
"No," she said matter-of-factly.
"Why not? Why does talking about your mother make you uncomfortable?"
"Because she's irrelevant to this."
The defensive tone was back in her voice. Unbeknownst to her, it egged him on.
"I respectfully say otherwise." He looked down at his notebook for a brief second. "I am not sure if either of you remember when I gave a brief synopsis on the Imago Theory, or when in practice, referred to as Imago Therapy. It was during one of our prior sessions, in regards to your daughter when she had a debacle with a boy at school. I recall making a slight comparison in how adults often select their spouses in relation to their parents and unresolved feelings from childhood or young adulthood. In your case, the theme of the theory similarly applies."
Her eyebrow was cocked, ears keenly listening, ready to counter argue his studied cognizance with every breath in her body, like the good lawyer she was.
"A main take away from psychologists, Drs. Hunt and Hendrix, model is people unconsciously choose spouses that force them to confront subconscious issues from their past; more often from childhood. The types of relationships and behaviors people are exposed to as children, predetermines an atlas for the types of relationships and behaviors sought during adulthood. The purpose is that persons choose a partner who helps tackle those lain issues, heal from them and then move on as an emotionally independent individual and sound partner. Thus is the same goal when practiced in a therapy setting."[1]
"That sounds very Freudian," she said, resisting rolling her eyes.
"But modern," he countered. "And in your situation, the gist is pertinent."
He palmed a side of his face in the space between his index finger and thumb, supported by his elbow propped along the curved elbow of the chair, ready to dive beneath her steel surface.
"What was your relationship like with your mother during your parents disintegration?"
"Dr. Lewis." She closed her eyes and gathered her patience. "I don't want to discuss details about my relationship with my mother. Not today. I think saying she put herself and affairs before her family is enough."
He slowly nodded, watching as Peter moved closer to her again, acting as her silent champion as he expected. Whenever she displayed emotional unease not directed at him, he shielded her from further pain at all costs.
"Okay. We don't have to delve into that relationship now. Do you mind sharing why your parents divorced?"
She looked from him to Peter, who offered no solace or interruption, only his nonverbal support. Her eyes begged him to segue into their usual pattern and do most of the talking to take the heat off of her. At his simple nod, she knew for their sake, it was time to rip the band-aid off of that old wound.
"I believe a main reason was because my mother cheated. Repeatedly," she finally said.
Peter glanced to her then back to their therapist, starting to piece together Adam's previously shared knowledge and her statement just now. The conclusion did not sit well on his conscience.
"Do you know what drove her to have affairs? Was there a known discord between your parents?"
"No. They would never confirm. In their divorce, they cited irrevocable differences." She brushed her hair back from her face. "My mother has always been a free spirit so to speak, while my father was a pillar of strength, routine and dependent. I suppose he got tired of turning a blind eye to everything and then one day, it all came to a head. They fought, they made up, my mother would leave and come back whenever she pleased. Their marriage and our home environment grew volatile."
"How old were you when they divorced?"
"Fourteen."
"As a young girl, that was likely hard for you to see and hear."
"It was."
"Have you ever spoken to your mother about that time? About her behavior and how that made you feel?"
"No."
He wanted to push more. She was teetering on the edge of opening a door he desperately tried to get her to walk through during their individual session. With Peter present, he knew that would only go so far.
"Thank you, Alicia, for shedding some light on your parents divorce and your projection of that fear in mimicking their outcome in your marriage. The little you shared about your mother circles back to Peter's statement that you are not your mother. Correct me if I am misinterpreting the statement, but was it referenced in the sense that you are committed to providing a sound and stable environment for your children, that you are present and trying to model a difficult marriage, but one that works?"
"Yes," she said, growing uncomfortable at his unwelcome analysis.
"The parallel in this conversation is a bit obvious and uncanny. You are married to someone that, unfortunately, performed the same action as your mother. Although Peter, from what has been shared in our sessions so far, we have established that the origin of your infidelity was not intentional."
Peter nodded in gratitude.
"But, Alicia, Peter's unfortunate choices has forced you to deal with unresolved feelings surrounding your parents divorce in a way. Of course there are many extenuating factors contributing to the current state of your marriage—by both of you—but in the realm of psychotherapy, your selection of each other, will help you both confront recessed, unresolved feelings and eventually strengthen your bond as a couple. In a nutshell, again, that is a basis of the theory and its practices."
"So by me cheating," said Peter, "according to this theory, unintentionally opened a door that is helping her work through…what? Childhood insecurities? Trauma? Blame?"
Adam closed his notebook and leaned forward.
"Yes," he said simply. "Of course it was not an ideal stimulus, but I do believe there is some relation in regards to this invisible wall in your marriage and Alicia being a witness to her parents marriage ending."
He turned to look at her beside Peter, well aware that she had recoiled and likely mentally checked out of the session moments ago. He'd pierced another of her buried wounds without invitation. Emotionally, he was certain she had begun to bleed, but hopefully heal.
"Alicia, I can tell there are deep layers to you and your mother's relationship. Some that are not relevant to your marriage, and unfortunately we do not have time to explore. But the part of it you shared, is relevant. She is relevant. Her past actions are relevant."
He set his notebook down onto the glassed coffee table in front of him and met her timid eyes, no doubt resembling that little girl who wanted to cry to be heard when no one listened.
"You are not to blame for her adulteries and you are not to blame for Peter's. Their burdens are not yours to carry or ones that you should feel you need to comply and stay to remediate. You are only responsible for your life and choices," he reiterated.
Her throat burned with emotion as she stared into his sincere eyes, fighting tears. Memories of her parents fighting, hearing doors slamming and objects breaking in the still of night flooded her mind, making her want to run and forget it all. A particular memory of her young self standing in front of her upstairs bedroom window as she watched her mother angrily get into her car and leave for the night, invaded her mind at that moment. She remembered that night vividly. It was the first of many when she witnessed her abandon them. At least that's how it felt. She had asked her mother to help style her hair for school the next day, right before her father walked in asking to have a word. The distinct, agitated sound of Veronica saying, "She always needs something, just like you. You're so needy..." to her father, was forever engrained in her mind. That was the last she heard of her voice before leaving for the night. She never got to show her mother the picture of the hairstyle she wanted. When she awoke the following morning, she had to attempt the style herself. Alone. Just like she did everything else. Alone.
"You okay?" Peter asked.
His deep voice startled her as she looked at him, the instant concern in his gaze washing over her in a wave of reassurance. Despite it everything, she knew without a doubt, he would always be there for her. Always.
Nodding, she tried to calm her mental reel between the past, present, and future. It was all beginning to feel like too much.
Sighing, Adam checked his watch, noting the time.
"We have reached our allotted hour today but I want to assign another exercise. Before our next session, I want you to do two things. One: call each other on the phone everyday and talk for at least five minutes. It can be morning, noon or night. The hour does not matter and your topics do not have to be specific; the goal is to again, strengthen your lines of communication as well as build trust. Second: have a family outing. It sounds as if your children, as well as yourselves would benefit from uninterrupted time together. Do anything, even go away for the weekend if you prefer. The only purpose is to spend time together and objectively communicate."
"Will do," said Peter.
Adam looked to Alicia, her death quiet leading him to wonder if he pushed her too hard this session. "Alicia? Are you okay with that?"
Again, she nodded.
As they all rose from their seated positions and offered goodbyes, Adam beckoned her back before she could leave the room.
"I'll be out in the waiting area," said Peter, exiting and closing the door ajar.
Adam placed his hands in his pockets as he took a moment to ingest the visibly unnerved woman before him. He was aware she had her reasons for keeping her cards close to the vest. During the latter part of their session, he was finally a gifted an even clearer picture as to why.
"I noticed you became upset towards the tail end of our session," he said gently. "I sincerely apologize if I upset you more than anticipated."
She readjusted her purse on her shoulder, avoiding his intense gaze. "It's okay."
"No, it is not. Your voice matters in this room. It is important that you state your discomfort at any time you feel imperative. As your therapist, I have an obligation to respect that boundary."
"Thank you, for that." She turned to leave when he stopped her again.
"And if you ever want to sort through any stashed feelings about your parents or your upbringing, please, just call. I am here to help you both, in any way that I can."
With a final thank you, she practically ran from the room, hoping the coming weeks dragged just so she wouldn't have to step foot in that room again sooner than she was ready.
1. "What Is Imago," Harville & Helen.
A/N: Referenced the originators of the theory mentioned for literary purposes and those interested in maybe delving more. Unable to list the site link in its entirety here, but a google search will easily point in the direction! Thanks for reading. :)