Title: Therapy
Author: ZombieJazz
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.
Summary: Olivia talks to her therapist about her husband's reaction to her pregnancy test results and the implications it has for their relationship. A O/S of the therapist office scene in Wednesday's child.
Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.
Dr. Lindstrom looked to the door of his office as there was a knock. Olivia's eyes quickly darted over almost faster than his. But as his administrator held the door open a crack and a man appeared inside already mumbling his apologies, he knew that it was exactly the knock she'd been waiting for and hoping her.
In a way he was glad she'd gotten what she'd wanted. When he'd greeted her in the waiting room he'd been both surprised and completely unsurprised to find her alone. But she'd near immediately started to provide excuses for her husband and to just assure him that the man was only running lately. That he'd be there. Lindstrom wasn't entirely sure that he'd expected him to show up. In fact, when he'd found her alone in the room, he'd been completely prepared to spend a significant proportion of that session discussing that with her and how it felt for her and what it meant to her and how she wanted to deal with it. But she'd been so adamant that her husband would be there, he'd left that topic for the moment, deciding to broach it with her in the last 20 minutes or so of their session, if the man still hadn't appeared. Olivia, though, had been so distracted with her phone and check in and sending texts, that he'd had politely reminder her about his electronics rules and ask her to put it away. He'd told her upfront that if her husband hadn't arrived - as he was apparently promising her – they could talk about it in a bit. But she'd just pushed back again that he'd be there. So they waited and he continued on with trying to address some of her other priorities.
But now here he was. His demeanor did suggest that he had been running late and that he did feel guilty about it. He seemed embarrassed and flustered. He was almost in a tizzy as he entered the room, giving his wife a sympathetic look and sputtering off his apologies.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't supposed to be at that meeting but they called me in and I kept trying to leave and just …"
Olivia interrupted. "It's OK. We can talk about it later," she told him somewhat curtly. But it was enough to stop the man in his tracks. He just stood there inside the door and gazed at her almost like a hurt animal and than shifted his eyes away from his wife and too his feet like an embarrassed child.
Lindstrom took that moment to stand up and walk across the room. "Why don't you take off your coat and stay a while?" he offered far more conjugality than his wife had and gestured with his hand to the coat tree off behind her husband's shoulder.
The man glanced behind him but started to shrug his jacket off. He really did seem a bit of a nervous mess. Though, Lindstrom was used to seeing that in first time patients. He was sure the man running lately and that he was his wife's therapist wouldn't be helping matters at all. But he also knew that he was far from this man's first therapy visit.
Lindstrom wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected out of Olivia's husband. She spoke about him in such broad strokes that he really hadn't been able to form any sort of opinion about him – or even much of an idea of who or how he might be. But even in the casual observations he was making now as the man removed his coat, he seemed a mess. His outfit looked unkempt and his appearance looked tired and ragged. There was a nervous energy about him but he also just seemed exhausted. There was a shyness and a timidness but with that agitation that Lindstrom could see that there might be some pent up anger and even rage that could boil over if buttons were pushed in the wrong way.
"Peter Lindstrom," he said as the man turned back around and offered his hand. He took it and offered a firm but rather short shake. "Do you prefer to go by Will or William?" he asked when there'd been not reciprocal introduction. He supposed from Olivia's commentary about him not liking the concept of her talking about him that made it was assumed that introductions had already been made.
It was Olivia who answered from behind them, though. "Will," she said bluntly again. "Not William."
Will's eyes had tracked back to her and Lindstrom turned as well. Her posture had become more tense and there was a hardness to her eyes accompanied by a small glint. They'd never discussed the fact that her husband had the same name as her attacker but it was a reality that Lindstrom wasn't oblivious too. Clearly neither was the couple.
"Yeah," Will offered more quietly. "Will's fine. No one calls me William expected my parents. Even they don't really anymore …"
Lindstrom just offered a small nod and this time gestured to the sitting area. "Will …" he said in a simple offer for him to sit down, as he returned to his own chair and notepad, observing the man again and watching where he did choose to sit.
For a moment it looked like he was going to pick the solo armchair but he managed to navigate around it and selected the couch with his wife. Though, he sat about as far away from her as possible to the point that he was almost huddle into the far corner, sitting awkwardly stiff with his hands fidgeting on his knees.
The doctor still watched as Olivia moved on the couch and shifted closer to him and how Will cast her a sideways glance as she leaned into his space and than reached out and plucked the beanie that he'd left on his head when he'd removed his coat. She held it out to him.
"You forgot your hat," she said plainly.
Will took it from her and bunched it in his hand almost like he was going to use it as a stress ball. Meanwhile Olivia was already reaching again to brush down the static that the removal had left in her husband's hair that looked more like he had just rolled out of bed that morning than that he'd removed his hat. But Will's hand came up and brushed hers away in a half attempt to smooth down his own mess.
"It's cold out," Will muttered as he did so, like that was enough of an explanation. Or at least that he felt that any of it needed some sort of explanation.
Olivia was still watching him as he fidgeted and her husband's eyes quickly darted to her again. This time Lindstrom saw her hand land on his knee and than skirt to find his hand and provide it a brief squeeze.
"Hey," she said in a very quiet but still unmistakably firm voice. "It's OK. Just calm down."
Will nodded. "Yeah," he muttered again but his eyes had set across the room on something distant and Lindstrom found himself measuring how much of a participant the man might even be now that he was here.
"So, Will," Lindstrom started, not really wanting to waste too much time seeing as they'd already spent part of the supposedly joint-session without his presence. "Olivia was just telling me that the two of you have been communicating a bit better this week?"
The man's eyes first gave Olivia a look but then drifted to him. "Ahh … yeah …," he offered. "I'm … trying … to be home more this week. I guess we've sort of been talking."
"And how's that going from your perspective?" Lindstrom asked.
Will gazed at him nearly blankly and than his eyes moved back to Olivia and he seemed to examine her for far too long, like he was trying to get some sort of non-verbal cue from her about exactly how he was supposed to answer that. "Ah … well …" he sputtered some more. "I don't know. How do you think it's going?" he asked his wife.
Olivia looked at her husband. "I'm glad we're talking more than before," she provided after a bit of a silence. "But I'm still feeling like it's a bit of a one-side conversation."
At that point Will's eyes tracked away from her and again found a spot across the room as he sat looking so uncomfortable on that very comfortable couch.
"How about you, Will?" Lindstrom pressed again. "Are you feeling like something is missing from your conversations?"
A noise let out from the man. A prolonged sigh that eventually was joined with a headshake and a shrug of the shoulders.
"Yeah, I don't know," Will said. "I guess we've been off for a while."
"How do you mean 'off'?" Lindstrom asked.
Will shrugged but his eyes moved from the wall to his feet. "Just figuring out the rules … since … is just … fucked."
Olivia made a sound at that. It seemed somewhat disgusted with his comment and her eyes seemed to move from the casual watching of her husband to almost drilling into him.
"There aren't rules," she spat out with some force. But Will met her eyes briefly and even from where Lindstrom was sitting he could see a disagreement in them.
"What rules do you think have come into play?" Lindstrom asked.
But Will just shrugged then. "I don't know."
"You think there's rules," Olivia said again, now somewhat harshly. "You need to clarify that. Because I don't think there's rules."
Lindstrom held up his hand at that. "OK, Olivia," he said gently. "Let's let Will talk and try to express himself. You'll have a chance to respond."
Now it was him who was getting those drilling eyes but she did keep silent. But with her body language, he could tell it was taking every last ounce in her being to sit there quietly.
"Olivia wants to hear what you have to say Will," Lindstrom said and cast eyes more directly at his patient in a gentle reminder. "That's why we're all here." But Will just remained quiet at that point. Lindstrom let him for a moment but then decided it would best to rephrase his question.
He folded his hands. "Rather than rules, how about you just tell me about some of things you're finding difficult these days … if you can."
Will sat there again for a long time and let out a slow sigh.
"I just don't know what I'm doing," he finally said quietly. "I never know what to do. I'm trying to help her but it never feels like I'm doing it right."
"There isn't a right or wrong," Olivia interjected again and Lindstrom again cast her a look trying to encourage her to wait for her chance to speak. If she cut off her husband too many times it was very clear that he was going to shut down. Lindstrom wasn't even sure if he was going to be able to get him to open up.
"There is a wrong," Will contended. "If there wasn't a wrong, we wouldn't be here."
It was Olivia's turn to make a sound and she looked away from her husband for the first time and shook her head, looking off over her shoulder and into a corner.
"OK," Lindstrom conceded. "Then how about we talk about what some of the hardest parts of all of this are for you?"
Will just offered him a shrug, his eyes firmly on his feet and his hands now wringing that beanie like he thought he might be able to conjure some sort of moisture out of it.
"Anything you want to get off your chest?" Lindstrom tried again.
The silence that sat in that room seemed to last for far too long. Long enough that Lindstrom was starting to contemplate his next actions. If a new couple's therapist would be beneficial to them and who he knew that might be able to take them on. If some other setting might work better for them. What ways he could try to navigate them through the rest of this session and still have something useful to offer them.
But then Will finally admitted at a near whisper, "I don't really remember what happened."
"You're repressing it?" Lindstrom asked.
Will shook his head. "Not really," he said quietly. "It's just … that my memory is limited. I spent a lot of time unconscious. I guess the concussion affected my memory too. It's like … everything is so blurred and narrow. That it's like I'm only able to remember this really specific period of it. And I know …" he shook his head again and looked more at his feet. "I know that it went on for far longer than just that period. That my son and my wife … have all these memories … that they had to experience the pain in a different way than me. It's like … I couldn't be there for my family then … and I … can't even … share in it with them now … because it's just all … gone …"
"Losing consciousness doesn't diminish the experience you had, Will," Lindstrom provided. "It doesn't mean that you aren't allowed to have feelings about it. And it isn't an indication of a failure."
Will gave him a small glance but no response. Lindstrom weighed if this was a topic of conversation that he'd worked on with his therapist and it was just being presented to his wife now or if this was entirely new territory.
"I lost consciousness too," Olivia provided quietly and gave him a glance for permission to speak before settling her gaze back on her husband. "A lot. And with the alcohol and the drugs and the pain … there's things that I don't remember too. Or are just blurry. Sometimes that scares me too. The things I can't remember and wondering what happened during those periods." More emotion seemed to fill her voice as she said it and Lindstrom caught glimpses of her eyes, which were getting that glassy look.
"I just feel like we're supposed to … relate to everything. You're supposed to say that," Will said quietly. "You're supposed to try to understand what I went through and I'm supposed to understand what you went through. And we're supposed to say we get it and we're supportive. But sometimes I don't feel like you get it. Sometimes I know I don't get it. Any of it."
"What is it that you feel Olivia isn't understanding about your experience, Will?" Lindstrom pressed.
Will was quiet again and Lindstrom hoped that this silence didn't drag on as long as the one before because he could see the hurt in Olivia at his suggestion that she didn't understand or appreciate his experience or that she wasn't supporting him the right way. The underlying suggestion that he didn't or couldn't support her either. It would be a challenging statement to get either of them to move beyond – let alone to work on given their current states.
"That this was worse than her being shot," Will finally said and gave her a look, this time his eyes lingering. "This was way worse. At least than I knew where you were and that people were trying to help you. I knew what was happening. This … I didn't know what was happening to you. I didn't know what was going on. No one was telling me anything. They just kept asking me questions that I didn't know the answer to."
"They were trying to find me, Will," Olivia said quietly.
He grabbed at the hair on the side of his head at that and scrunched his face in near agony. "But they weren't telling me anything," he pushed out through gritted teeth, "and they just kept asking me all these things. And they had Noah in another room asking him all these things. … And I spent days … DAYS … not knowing if you were alive or dead. And, I feel like you don't get that. That you don't get how awful that was. And how … now … it's like I'm not supposed to talk about that part of it. Because you're alive. And because compared to what you had to go through … that part of it doesn't matter … right …?"
Olivia gazed at him and Lindstrom saw her eyes growing even more glassy and this time her voice cracked as she spoke.
"You're allowed to feel those things," she said, "and to talk about them. But I do understand how you feel, Will. Because I spent the whole time I was with him not knowing if you were alive or dead either. I didn't know if Noah was tied up in a room with his father's corpse. And I spent the … whole time … begging for my life and begging to get to go back to my family … trying to survive … not knowing what I would be going back to. If you'd be there. So I do know how that feels … in my own way."
Lindstrom let them share a silence after that and let Olivia swipe at the tears that were running down her cheeks. Will's knee had started bouncing where he was sitting.
"It's just another way Lewis added to the mindfuck," Olivia finally said under her breath.
Lindstrom observed him again for a moment and then asked, "Do you think some of the reason you are struggling with talking to each other is out of self-preservation?"
They both gave him a questioning look.
"That you're afraid to think about some of these things – elements of this experience – yourselves, so you aren't sharing it with each other? And that that's hurting your relationship?"
Will shrugged. "I just feel like she doesn't really need me. A lot of times."
"I need you Will," Olivia said in a tone that sounded so hurt that it was clear it was a discussion they'd had several times before.
"It's not just now," Will said. "I've never really felt like you needed me."
"You're wrong," Olivia said quietly but added not further clarification.
Lindstrom looked to Will. "What makes you feel that way?"
"Lots of things."
"Maybe you can give us an example so we can explore that a little bit."
Will shrugged. "Sometimes … a lot of the times … it's like my opinion isn't even considered in a lot of things."
"Like what?" Lindstrom pressed again.
"Her job," Will said flatly.
"It's my life and it's my job and it's my decision," Olivia said sharply. "Lewis wasn't going to take that away from me too."
"And what about my life? My job? My decision?" Will pushed back at her and cast her a look before turning sharply to him. "I got a job offer. Back in Boston. But didn't take it."
"We talked about it and we decided your lives are here," Olivia said.
"And what kind of life do we have here these days?" Will said and his voice cracked and his head fell to examining his feet again.
"We've talked about job offers you've had in other cities before. We weren't in a position to uproot ourselves. We wouldn't have been able to handle it."
"Yeah, we 'talk' about my job." Will looked at her for a moment but then back to him. "But we never really talked about whether she'd go back to her job," Will said. "It was like I wasn't allowed to have an opinion on it. It was just … assumed … that she'd go back."
"And you didn't want Olivia to go back to SVU?"
Will sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. I guess maybe not really. Not after … that."
Lindstrom nodded. "That's likely fair. It must've scared you to have your wife going back into the line of fire … so to speak?"
Will allowed a small nod. "Yeah," he said quietly. "And it's just … hard … because we were … fighting … about her job before. And then it's like … we had the opportunity to talk about it … to make a change … and we didn't …"
"We've made changes," Olivia provided.
Will made another sound and looked at her. "The apartment?" he asked. "I hate the apartment."
Olivia rolled her eyes and shook her head looking at the ceiling but made no comment.
"We have these almost panoramic windows," Will provided and looked back to him. "So we can still see Manhattan. But it feels like they're … the whole apartment … is just mocking what we had."
"What do you miss about what you had?" Lindstrom asked.
Will let out a small laugh. "You know, I've thought about that. That I'm supposed to be mourning that loss. But what did we have before?" he asked and cast Olivia a look. She seemed hurt by the comment. "We were in crisis mode," he provided and kept her eyes. "Noah was sick and we were in crisis mode. Then he got better but it wasn't like we took any downtime and reflection time." Olivia made another small sound at that and looked away and Will found his eyes instead. "So life just got as busy as always again … and now we're in another even worse crisis."
Will looked down to his feet. "We were in a bit of a rough space even before all this," he said quietly. "We were … sort of … arguing about how we wanted to define our lives and manage work and family. Now it's like some of the things we were arguing about are so irrelevant but at the same time it's the exact same discussion but this … awful and … different tone."
"And then it's like in all of this we're going through some sort of role reversal," he continued quietly. "It's like … Liv was always so driven by work and after the assault she wanted to go back to work. It was me that didn't. But now it's me is at work all the time and she's the one doing the banker's hours. And it just feels like so much more is changing too fast and too much and I just miss … so much about what we had and what we did. Even though it was still crisis management. But even then it all feels so out of reach."
"What sort of things do you miss?" Lindstrom tried again even though Will had just laughed the question off minutes before.
Will sighed. "We never go out. We never do things as a family."
"We went out. On Friday," Olivia said.
Will snorted. "To my parents'."
"I suggested a weekend away and you said no," Olivia said.
"You didn't suggest a weekend away. You suggested a weekend in a hotel," Will said.
Lindstrom took the opening to wade a bit more into that – knowing that beyond the difficulties they were having communicating, Olivia had also initiated the joint session as a way to get help guiding them to a sex therapist who might be able to help them as well. Lindstrom wasn't getting the impression that they were in the death throes of their marriage. They were just hurting and struggling, which was something he'd fully expect from a couple who'd endured the experience they'd gone through and the trauma Olivia had.
"Some time to yourselves – not at your parents' and without your son – might be beneficial," he said. "A lot of couples do just resort to a hotel to get some time to themselves. It can be a refreshing and healthy change."
Will made another annoyed noise that made his resistance to trying anything that might entail he and his wife having to share any length of time alone. "And where are we supposed to go for a weekend away?" he spat. "We aren't going to holiday on Long Island anymore …"
"Long Island is a big place," Lindstrom said. He didn't think it was healthy for either of them to eternally feel that had to avoid an entire geographic space and it concerned him that it wasn't just Olivia who was showing apprehension about ever returning to that area.
But Will didn't react to his comment. Lindstrom suspected he was in such a rant at that point that he might've not have even heard it. "Are were supposed to go and wander around some unfamiliar city? That doesn't sound very appealing. And it's winter."
Lindstrom examined him. "There's a lot of local hotels. We are a major city and a tourist destination."
Will just made a sound and looked down at the ground again. Lindstrom gave him a moment again but then continued.
"OK," he finally provided, "for now let's just note that, Will, you'd like to be getting out a bit more and doing some things with your wife or with your family. Maybe things that you've done in the past but don't feel quite as comfortable with doing now. Let's come back to that in a bit. You think about what something either you and Olivia or you as a family could do and we'll discuss it again. But for now let's talk a little bit about some areas Olivia would like to see some work done on."
He looked at her and it took her a moment to realize and meet his eyes. She sputtered for a second and tucked some of her hair behind her ear.
"Ah …" she seemed hesitant, even though they'd already broached the topic and he'd helped her prepare to speak about it with her husband – even though the underlying reason for the visit was to get that referral. "I guess one of the things I really want us to be working on," she said to Will, not him, "is figuring out how … and where and when … we can touch each other again. I'm ready to put more effort into working on that. With you. But I need for you to be willing … and ready … to work on it too."
Will didn't respond so Lindstrom posed another question. "Is that something you think you are ready to work on? Or ready to start working towards?"
Will shrugged. "I don't know," he said quietly.
Lindstrom saw Olivia look down at that. The hurt in her was palpable. "I just … know how much … I like your touch," she said quietly. "I know … how important … it was to me … how much it helped me … when Noah was sick … and after the shooting. Even if it's just a hug. I really need them now. Even though you haven't really seemed to want to give them lately."
"Because it hurts when you push me away," Will said somewhat abruptly but their was a clear sadness in his voice too. "I feel like I trigger you. And that's the last thing I want to be doing."
Olivia's head dropped. "I don't like when you trigger me either …"
Lindstrom held up his hand. "Now is it Will that triggers you or is it other factor? Touch? Movement? Smells? Sound?"
Olivia's eyes were set on the cushion between her and her husband. "It's usually more the touch itself," she said quietly. "Sometimes the movement associated with them."
"That's an important clarification to make, Will," Lindstrom provided. "It isn't you."
"But it's me who's doing the touching … and … moving …" he said.
"It's just … that sometimes my mind doesn't go the right place with these things anymore, Will," Olivia said still quietly and a little defeated. "But I trust you. I wouldn't want to be working on this if I didn't. I know that you aren't purposely trying to hurt me and I want to … learn how to … think about it properly again."
"It's like you're asking me to do something but you don't even know what you want me to do," Will said almost as quietly as her.
"Are you able to express to Will what you want and need from him, Olivia?" Lindstrom asked.
She sighed. "Right now … it's really just … touch. Even if it's just my cheek or my hair. You never touch my hair anymore."
Will sighed again.
"It's all making me feel really unattractive, Will," she said. "That's hard on top of everything else. It just adds to … the insecurity of it all.
"If it's because you don't like my haircut … I really don't like whatever this is …" she said and gestured at the scruff that hugged the man's face.
Will gazed at her at that comment. "I just … thought … that … you cut it that night … I just … didn't think that I was supposed … I thought it might be triggering."
She gazed at him. "Or maybe it's the same as suddenly changing your appearance after being dragged through the mud at a rape trial?" she said with an edge.
Will's eyes blinked at her in a clear indication of tears welling and he looked down. "That's not what I'm doing," he said quietly.
"Then you're hiding your surgical scar," she said.
He glanced up at her but provided no dispute to that suggestion.
"You used to put your hand on my head … stroke my hair … when we hugged. Ever since Noah got sick," she said. "It made me feel comforted. And safe. You don't hold me like that anymore. I miss it."
Will looked at her. It seemed to Lindstrom to be one of the first times the man was really looking at his wife. Their eyes seemed to be communicating with each other but they made no move to have any sort of physical contact in front of him and they sat in silence.
"So one of the reasons Olivia wanted to have you in here today was so we could talk about helping you both with your communication and with re-establishing your physical relationship," Lindstrom provided. "We'd previously talked about getting you both a referral to a sex therapist. How do you feel about that Will?"
"I don't want to see a sex therapist, but if she wants to see a sex therapist, I'll see a sex therapist," Will said flatly.
"You don't feel you're ready to work with a sex therapist or you're opposed to the idea of a sex therapist? Or …?"
Will sighed. "I just … if that's what Olivia wants then I'll go. I just … want us to be … OK."
Lindstrom allowed a small nod. "OK," he said. "That's a positive start. And your current couple's therapist? How do you feel that's going?"
"OK, I guess," Will said.
"He hasn't been participating there," Olivia clarified. "This is actually the most he's said in a month – either at home or at the therapist's."
Lindstrom looked to Will again. "And why's that Will?"
He shrugged but then looked at his wife. "Olivia thought I was thinking about leaving her. I'm not thinking about that. I don't want to leave her and I don't want her to leave me. So if she wants me to talk to you or to talk to a sex therapist or … whatever … I'll do it. Or at least … I'll try."
Lindstrom examined him. It was a starting point. He wasn't sure it was going to be enough to solve all their problems but it would at least give them a foundation to build on for the moment.
"Well, you seem a little unsure about how or if you're ready to move forward, Will. I'm happy to give you a referral. Or I could give you some points to work on at home, and after you've tried them, you could let me know if you want a referral later."
"I don't want anymore exercises," Will said bluntly.
"Why's that?" Lindstrom asked.
"Because they're ridiculous."
"What's ridiculous about them?" he asked.
"Liv said we wouldn't have to talk about our sex lives at this appointment," was all he said.
Lindstrom examined him for a moment but then allowed a small nod. "OK," he agreed. "But, I think you should understand that whether it's a sex therapist or a new couples' therapist that I refer you to there are going to be exercises. There is homework. This kind of therapy – and recovery – Will, doesn't end within these office walls. It's something that needs work from the participants. It's a process."
Will gave a small nod. "Yeah," he said quietly.
Lindstrom gave a glance to Olivia. There was the foundation of commitment there. But the fear and resistance to get over the hump and to move on with their recovery might be a challenge. But at least they'd communicated some.
"OK," Lindstrom said again. "Well … why don't we start with a small assignment for now? Just to get used to the idea of them." Will flared his nostrils but made no comment. So he looked to Olivia. "Olivia, I'd like you to pick something – simple, small – that you'd like Will to either work on or discuss with you prior to your next couple's session."
Olivia thought about it for a moment. Lindstrom was expecting her to ask for more hugs in a day or something touch oriented. But instead she looked at her husband and said, "I'd like use to have a real – not a one-sided conversation – about that facial hair. And, then I'd like for you to shave."
Lindstrom looked to Will. "Do you feel that's something you'll be able to accommodate?"
"Yeah," Will said quietly though he'd gone back to examining his feet.
Lindstrom nodded. "And, what about you, Will? Is there something that you'd like to work on or discuss with Olivia? Something relatively small and simple?"
Will shrugged. "I don't know," he said and Olivia let out a small noise. Her frustration and pain with his participation but non-participation was apparent.
"What about going back to our conversation before," Lindstrom said. "You said you'd like to be able to go out more with your wife or with your family?"
"I don't know what we could do," Will said.
"Well, why don't we pick something that maybe you'd both enjoy doing with your son?" Lindstrom pressed. "Perhaps do something that you used to enjoy in the past but have felt hesitant doing lately?"
"Noah won't do anything anymore. He won't go swimming. He's had no interest in sports at all," Will said.
"Let's pick something that isn't swimming or sports related then," Lindstrom pressed yet again.
Will sighed. "I don't fucking know," he huffed. "The fucking new Lego store thing. Let's go to the fucking Discovery Center."
He looked at Liv and she shrugged. "OK. Let's go," she agreed.
Will looked at the ceiling and sighed like he'd been hoping she'd put up a fight. "We'd have to rent a car or take the train and there'd be crowds."
"Crowds of 7- to 11-year-olds. I think I can handle a train ride and small children, Will," she said.
"Do you think Noah can?" Lindstrom asked.
"I don't know … do you think he can?" Will put back to his wife.
"I think he would, if he was with us," she said. "I think he can get through most things as long as he has us."
