A/N: Hi all! As it's been a while since the last update, please note the next few chapters plus the events in the previous chapters (which occurred on a Monday) all take place within the same week. Just wanted to note that in case it's confusing while reading given it's obviously easy to forget. Lol.

Anywho, warm welcome to new readers (!) and enjoy!

Week Nine — Part I

Alicia gripped the leather handle of her tote as she stood in front of their therapist corner suite office door, taking a minute to mentally gather herself.

Almost a month had passed since she — they — visited this room, and as she stood on the other side, prepared to knock, she hesitated. The engrained, sinking gut spasm of dread was ...

Gone.

It never dawned on her there could come a day when preparing to enter this room wouldn't induce a bout of dread. On the days of their routine appointment, the hours leading up to it were filled with a steady eruption of angst. Nearly every week for the seven months, and counting, since they'd been coming here, dread clouded her mood on these days. But not now.

Today, the predicted feeling was absent.

A pacifying comfort relaxed her usual tentacle of nerves. This new repose could be attributed to the lesser-known benefits of time: a subtle growth and peace which came to fruition without warning.

She would bet her bottom dollar the doyen Dr. Adam Lewis would argue it wasn't without warning.

Rolling her shoulders back and taking a breath, she clung to this peace, or whatever it was and meant, and grabbed the curved silver handle, pushing the heavy frosted paneled shaker door further open.

She peered into the room. Her eyes immediately gravitated towards the empty couch and swept over to Adam behind his desk, engrossed in his computer monitor. She lightly rapped on the door.

Adam jolted in his seat before his face contorted into a mask of surprise then calmed upon seeing her standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Alicia!" He checked his watch. Their afternoon appointment was scheduled for one o'clock. "You are early."

"My day wasn't too hectic so I decided to head on over. Your secretary mentioned it was all right to come back. May I come in?"

"Of course. I was finishing a little housekeeping." Adam rose from the seat behind his desk and swayed a welcome hand across the space. "Please. Make yourself comfortable." He reached for the handset of the telephone, lifting it to his ear. "I will be over in just a second."

She nodded and strode towards the seating area, once again thinking of the last time she was here. The last time they were here.

Easing down onto the plush cushion, she sat in her usual spot then looked to the left at the space Peter usually sat.

It was in this room, weeks past, they made a promise to press forward. To treat their marriage as a priority, not a chore, and really work at loving each other better this time around. But since a few days ago, she second guessed everything.

Though she was early, his absence felt telling.

Peter was always the first to arrive — not her. How ironic those weeks ago they left here practically floating on cloud nine and now they were in an irresolute place. There were many factors she could equate to their present status quo, but what good would that do when the real issue lie between them, and the things left unsaid?

Fishing through her purse, she grabbed her cellphone then deposited the handbag on the floor next to the seat. She stared down at the device screen, expecting to see a notification of some sort from him. There were none. They hadn't spoken over the phone since Monday. Instead, a series of short text messages replaced the conversation both were avoiding.

Seeing Adam at his desk engaged in a quiet phone conversation, she chose to probe until time to start.

She checked the designated application for new emails. Nothing there. Maybe he sent a missed text? She tapped the icon to open her text messages and selected his name. Expanding the message thread, she scrolled through their single sentence replies.

On yesterday, Tuesday, he was the first to reach out.

How's the houseguest?

She sighed at the reminder of her incessant mother, and then at her response: Mostly tolerable. She's been teaching the kids greetings in Taiwanese. How are you?

He replied back, I'm okay. Busy. I'll call you later, babe.

He never called later. And they didn't check-in with each other last night as they had been doing the past few weeks.

She was thankful to be distracted enough to not dwell on their lack of communication, that is until this morning — Wednesday — when Zach casually asked if he and Grace would be spending their weekend at her apartment or Peter's.

His innocent question reminded her of the doubts, of their brooding tension and everything in between she avoided giving energy.

Around ten thirty this morning, she texted him, Are we still on for our session at 1?

Fifteen minutes had trickled by before she felt her phone vibrate from his simple response of, Yes. I'll meet you there.

Now, staring at his mid-morning reply, she mulled over the five words. Would he show up?

Failing to show up without notice wasn't in his nature and even now, in the back of her mind, she was certain he would never pull such a stunt. But their relationship had been a roller coaster for weeks with so much in limbo. It was like a grave storm had passed, and though there was relief, restoring balance was far out of reach.

"Alicia, I apologize," said Adam. His voice halted her thoughts, jerking her back to the present. "I did not expect the call to take long."

"That's okay," she said, silencing her phone and dropping it in her purse.

"Uh, can my secretary bring you anything while we wait for Peter to arrive?" he said, tidying his desk. "Water, tea, coffee?"

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. "No, thank you. I'm fine." Crossing her legs, she inhaled a stilling breath and relaxed against the back of the couch.

"I must say that I am anxious to hear how you two have begun to explore this new chapter of your relationship the past couple of weeks."

She folded her hands together to rest in her lap as she nodded. "Mmm …"

Adam eyed her over his glasses as he grabbed his pen and notebook, and treaded over to the seating area. He sat in his appointed chair opposite the couch.

"Can you clarify the, 'Mmm'?" he said.

She tried to recall, in her fleeting moment of disassociating this room with dread, how she forgot she hated when his scrutinizing gaze was on her.

"It meant nothing," she said. "It has been an … interesting few weeks."

"Well, once Peter arrives, you can share how interesting it has been."

"If he comes," she mumbled.

Adam paused opening his notebook. "Why would Peter not come today?"

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she curled her lips into her mouth for a second, annoyed the strain between them had bothered her to the point she was voicing suppressed thoughts without wavering.

"I didn't mean anything by that." She uncrossed then crossed her legs. "He'll be here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Adam rested his elbows on the arms of his chair as he started to twirl a pen between his index fingers. She looked around the room, at anything but him. When she saw the slight tilt of his head, she sucked in a breath and tightened her hands.

Here comes the analyzing.

"Now you are sure, but a few seconds ago you were not."

Her gaze shot back to him.

Adam continued, "Am I wrong to assume you know the reason Peter may or may not show up today?"

She sighed. "Dr. Lewis, I misspoke. I —"

"Hello." Peter's deep voice echoed across the room like a drill sergeant that had issued a command.

Adam and Alicia looked over to see him in the doorway. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Am I interrupting?" he said.

"No, no, not at all. Come." Adam extended his hand towards the couch. "Take a seat."

Her eyes were trained on Peter as he made his way towards the couch. She barely blinked as he pocketed his cell phone and unbuttoned his suit jacket, then settled in his usual spot. On the opposing far end, cementing the colossal distance between them.

He slowly looked her way, his gaze lingering as he ingested her next to him.

She could guess his thought without him saying a word. He liked her outfit choice today. He'd always loved her in any variation of black. Whenever she wore a piece of this color, he often remarked she looked every bit the ambitious and successful lawyer he always stated she would be.

"Hey," he said, running his tongue along his lower lip.

She caught the tail end of his lip lick and smiled.

"Hi," she responded.

No further attempts were made to acknowledge one another. They looked straight ahead at Adam, waiting for instruction.

Their curt greeting threw their therapist for a loop, she saw. Adam's gaze bounced back and forth, back and forth, no doubt trying to understand what mammoth of a problem arose the past few weeks, which led them to this point.

"Peter," said Adam, "before you walked in, I told Alicia I am anxious to hear all that has happened between the two of you during the past few weeks. Now that you are here, would either of you like to share?"

She wasn't going first. This was Peter's problem, not hers. He was the one being distant. As Adam flipped through the pages of his notebook while eyeing them over the metal brim of his glasses, waiting for an elaboration, she humored this could take all day.

Adam stopped on a page and sat back in his seat. Waiting. The dominant answer of silence hung in the air after she calculated twenty seconds had passed.

"Alright." He laid his pen along the creased bookbinding and gripped the rounded knobs of the armrest. "What happened that has made your egos too proud to speak in the presence of one another?"

Alicia glanced at Peter.

"We have come too far to backpedal to this stage." Adam eyed her. "Alicia, what happened?"

She opened her mouth then hesitated, struggling to conjugate the words.

"Her mother is what happened," Peter gruffly answered.

Alicia rolled her eyes.

"Her mother?" said Adam.

"My mother-in-law is in town and staying at Alicia's apartment. We had dinner with her the other night."

"Oh. How did that go?"

"Fine. At least I thought so until she got into Alicia's head."

Alicia craned her neck in his direction. "She did not get into my head."

"No?" said Peter, glancing sidelong at her. "So you no longer have doubts?"

"Peter, I never said I have doubts."

"You didn't have to. I didn't need smoke signals to know you were pulling away the other night. Or why."

"I don't have doubts."

"No, you didn't. Until Veronica created them." He pressed his elbow into the cushioned armrest, his face morphing into a fit of annoyance. "It never ceases to amaze me, how whenever she's around, you coincidentally second guess life choices you've made."

"Peter." She began to rub her temples. "I don't want to argue."

"I didn't say that to argue. I'm trying to make a point you're too scared to admit."

"Which is?" When he didn't readily answer, she folded her arms and pressed. "Peter, this isn't about my mother. Just admit you've been pouting ever since I told you about Will."

"I'm past that, Alicia," he said tiredly. "As you said, we put it to rest."

"No, you're not past it! You've been resenting me since I told you."

He straightened his posture and looked at her pointedly. "I haven't been resenting you."

"You have. You've been … distant."

"We're good now, Alicia," he said in a passive, singsong tone.

She hated when he spoke that way. It was a tone which said he had dismissed the matter and she should let it go; there wouldn't be a last word. It was a timbre he often used on the kids when they were steadily making a request and he'd already said no.

It got under her skin like no other.

"Are we good now?" she parroted, unable to suppress the bitter edge in her voice. "Because your mood is all over the place these days."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he drew in a long breath before looking her way. "Okay. Since you want to revisit this for some reason …" He slightly angled to face her. "Tell me. How else did you think I'd take your little news?" Exasperation was etched on every inch of his face. "Give you a hug? A pat on the back?"

Sucking her teeth, she shook her head and looked away.

"Alicia, what happened with Will?" asked Adam.

Her head whipped back to Peter with expectant eyes. He stared at her hard, albeit saying he wasn't going to answer this one.

She broke their battle eye lock and reluctantly answered. "I shared something with Peter that happened last year between Will and me. And I shared it because I don't want there to be secrets between us anymore."

"She kissed him," Peter said. "Or" — he looked her way — "did he initiate it and you finished?"

She ignored his bait of a well practiced argument and rocked her head from side to side to stretch out the budding kinks in her neck. She wasn't going to do this with him today.

"Is that true, Alicia?" said Adam. "You kissed Will?"

Closing her eyes, a heavy breath moved through her body, exiting past her lips as she nodded.

"Yes," she said. "It was a year ago. It didn't mean anything."

She watched with worried eyes as he quickly scribbled a note. The last thing she wanted was another deep dive into her and Will.

"We have discussed betrayal at great lengths in regards to your marriage many times, as well as Peter's, dislike, towards Will. Is there a reason you chose to share that event recently and not during one of our previous sessions on this subject matter?"

She shrugged. "I guess … I wasn't ready to share it, and maybe I didn't think Peter was ready to handle it either. Whenever there's a mention of Will, he can be like Rambo on steroids sometimes."

"'Rambo'," said Peter, huffing out a laugh. "I get upset my wife kissed another man and I'm the bad guy."

"Peter, your jealousy —"

"You know," he cut her off, "I'm not entirely mad at the fact you kissed him, as I told you before. If you thought I was pouting, maybe it was because after we decided to recommit to our marriage, you were harboring this secret."

Her hands fell to her sides. "And that is why I told you!"

"Is it? Or did you need to relieve your conscience of the temptation to do it again?"

"You think I want to kiss him again? Seriously?" she shrieked. "How can you even say that after the past few weeks?"

"We were in bed when you told me, Alicia."

She shook her head. "Think what you want, Peter. I'm done."

"Done with what exactly? Your mother convinced you to be done with this marriage, too?"

"I'm done talking about Will and dealing with your sour mood."

He chuckled. "My sour mood?"

"Yes," she seethed. Her irritation spiked a notch at the sound of his absurd chuckle. "We've hardly spoken since Monday and you've been … short."

He squinted. "Is that what this is all about? Me not calling last night?"

"No, this is about not admitting you didn't call because you're still upset I'm not ready for us to live together again."

"I'm not upset about that, Alicia."

"You are." She rolled her eyes again. "This hour would go a lot faster if you would just admit —"

"O-kay." He sighed loud and readjusted his tie. "Since we're also revisiting this and not what is really bothering you …" She looked at him, her eyes simmering with fight. "You're right. I do have concerns about our living situation, but I'm not upset. I'm confused. I didn't think a man being frustrated after stating he wants to live with his family then is shut down on the matter without an explanation would be looked upon as sour."

"It's too soon, Peter," she whispered.

He passed a hand over his face and exhaled a deep breath. "Why is it too soon? You never did say why. Instead of answering, you rebutted to Will then, just like now."

"You know why it's too soon." Her gaze narrowed when she saw his widened eyes. "You're only rushing us to live together to feel … secure."

"So …" He paused to stroke his chin in thought. "… I only want us to live together again because, apparently, I'm insecure. But not on the basis that I love you, and that I'm committed to making it work this time. That can't possibly be the only reason why, is that right?"

"Peter, you know that's not what I'm saying."

"Do I? Because the tables have obviously turned. Since your mother came, I don't know what you want anymore."

Her eyelids fluttered at his words, resenting the fact that he was the one person that knew her better than she did herself. As much as she'd tried to deny it, he was right. Veronica had crafted a web of confusion that she couldn't clearly see her way out of. The many yeses she thought she was ready for in regards to their marriage, now were waits.

All of which she was too stubborn to admit, threatening their newly laid foundation to fall a part.