Sad. Also guilty.
If I admit that, Dean will be even more upset. But if I don’t admit that, we’ll still be locked in a thorny, hurtful secrecy that we only think is protective.
“Liv?” Dr. Gale is still looking at me.
I tighten my hands together. Dean and I are sitting on either end of the same sofa, and the distance between us suddenly seems as vast as an ocean.
“I don’t want him to be angry,” I finally say.
“That’s what you don’t want,” Dr. Gale says, “not how you do feel.”
Dean makes a noise of impatience. I try to focus on the doctor.
“I feel… like it’s my fault that he’s angry and guilty,” I admit.
“It’s not your fault,” Dean tells me.
I know that’s not true. I pleat the folds of my skirt, disliking the idea that my husband still views me as a blameless good girl. That he won’t hold me accountable.
“Dean, can you tell me what you liked about Liv when you first met her?” Dr. Gale asks.
Dean glances at her, faintly surprised. “I liked everything about her.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“She was determined, beautiful, intelligent, kind of shy, and…” His voice trails off.
“A maze,” I say.
“A maze,” Dr. Gale repeats.
“He knew it would take work to get to know me, and he liked the challenge.”
Dr. Gale looks at Dean. “Is that true?”
“To a degree, yes.”
“And then how did you feel when you did get to know Liv? When you reached the end of the maze, as it were?”
He stares out the window again. “I didn’t want to leave.”
We’re all silent for a moment. My throat aches. Dr. Gale gives me an encouraging smile.
“What about you, Liv?” she asks. “What did you like about Dean when you first met?”
“I trusted him instinctively. I liked his strength and confidence. The way he made me feel. The sense that he would protect me from anything.”
“And how have your feelings for him changed over the course of your marriage?”
“They’ve gotten stronger, except…”
“Except?” Dr. Gale prompts.
“Except sometimes now I think he’s too strong, too protective. That’s why he didn’t want me to go with him to California. That’s why he didn’t tell me about the OJA situation until he absolutely had to. He won’t let me in or give me bad news because he doesn’t want me to get upset.”
“What do you think of what Liv just said, Dean?”
“I think she’s right,” he replies shortly.
“What I’m hearing from Liv is that she doesn’t feel as if you always treat her like an equal partner,” Dr. Gale suggests, her voice gentle. “That perhaps your overprotectiveness is not allowing either of you to connect the way you should.”
“It’s not just him.” I still dislike the implication that I’m blameless. “I was happy to let him be that way. No one had ever protected me before, and it felt good that he wanted to. That he could. We… our marriage was so safe, like a fortress where nothing could hurt us. Except…”
“Except?”
“Except we… we ended up hurting each other.” The admission scrapes my soul raw.
Tension stiffens Dean’s entire body. I want to reach out and grab his hand, touch his arm, something. My fingers dig into my palms. A new pain fills me at the reminder of what happened to us last fall and the fact that we still haven’t fully dealt with it.
“Okay.” Sensing the thick tension in the room, Dr. Gale looks at her notepad. “So, for a long time your marriage has been a safe haven for both of you. What else has been good about it?”
I shift, embarrassed, though the answer comes without any thought.
“Sex,” I admit.
“Sex between you has been good?”
“It’s been great.” My face heats. I glance at Dean. He’s still staring out the window, unreadable.
“Dean?” Dr. Gale turns her gaze on him.
“She’s right,” he says.
“So you’ve always been able to connect on a sexual level.”
I nod. “Always.”
“Perhaps that’s part of the problem,” Dr. Gale suggests. “You might be using an intense sexual relationship as a substitute for connecting on emotional and intellectual levels.”
“Bullshit,” Dean mutters.
“Dean…”
“What, Liv?” He turns to look at me, irritation tightening his features. “You think we fuck good because we’re not emotionally connecting?”
My flush deepens. “No, but maybe we sometimes use sex as a way to avoid dealing with stuff.”
“What stuff?” he snaps.
“Like you feeling guilty and angry when bad things happen. Or the fact that we never really talked about what happened last fall.”
“We didn’t have time, Liv! We had to go to California and—”
“But we had plenty of time to fool around, didn’t we? We always made time for that.” Something clicks in my head. A rush of intensity pours through me.
“You can control sex, Dean,” I say. “You’re totally in command when it comes to fucking. You know exactly what to do and when to do it… you know how to… to orchestrate both my pleasure and yours… you make me so crazy with wanting you that I forget about everything else.”