“Rachel thought we should see someone,” he says finally. “We’ve had some difficulties lately.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
He doesn’t answer.
“He had an affair,” I say. “With a coworker.”
“And is this affair still ongoing?” Laney asks.
“No,” Adam says.
She nods. “As of right now, do you both feel like you want to stay married? Your answer may change later, but right now, what would you say?”
“Why do you think we’re here?” he snaps.
She’s unaffected. “Adam, let me state up front that I’m here for both of you. I’m not going to side with Rachel just because you had the affair. It’s not my job to make you feel bad about yourself.”
That’s a shame. Adam’s been adored for too long.
“I also think it’s important to understand why you had the affair. And Rachel, I don’t want you to think of yourself as a victim. You have all the right in the world to be upset and hurt, and you have a vast array of choices to make. The affair has happened, and our goal is to move past that initial hurt and see what kind of solutions will work best for you both. This is focused counseling with an end goal in mind. It’s up to both of you to decide what that goal is.”
“Right,” Adam says.
Laney sits back in her chair. “Adam, why don’t you tell me how this affair got started. Rachel? Can you handle hearing about that?”
“Sure,” I chirp. But my legs buzz and twitch, like they want to carry me out of this little playhouse, and fast.
Adam sighs. “Well, Rachel’s perfect. Everyone knows that. Perfect housewife, perfect mother.”
“How old are your children?”
“Three and a half,” he says. “Girls. Triplets.”
“Go on.”
“And I guess things got a little boring,” he says, and I actually jump. God, I didn’t expect that at all! Boring? That word sledgehammers me in the chest, and tears flood my eyes. “I’m sorry!” he says. “Look, it’s just... All we talk about is the girls.”
“That’s not true. I always ask about work, and you—”
“Let him talk, Rachel. Your turn is coming.” Laney smiles kindly, pushes the tissue toward me and nods at Adam.
“Yeah, so, you know. We’ve been married for ten years—” it’s nine years “—and she became Holly Hausfrau, and I just kind of felt myself...losing interest.”
Fucking fuckety fuckster. How dare he. I wear matching underwear! Lace, even if it itches! Last month, I read a Cosmo article on new techniques in the world of blow jobs, and I put those techniques to good use! Me! A mother! And yes, the whole time I worried the girls would wander in. We don’t have locks on our doors.
“Emmanuelle is a woman I work with. Razor-sharp, incredibly smart, takes no shit from anyone, and she was blatant about wanting it.”
“And by it, what do you mean?” Laney asks.
“Sex. Fucking. Me.” The words are like punches. “At first, I told her I was happily married.”
“Did you consider yourself that way?” she asks.
“Yes!” He sounds surprised. He looks at me, sees my stupid, hated tears, and his face changes. He grabs the tissue box and hands it to me. “Oh, babe. Yeah. Just... I don’t know. It’s not even that I was bored, honey,” he says. “That was a poor choice of words. It was...routine, I guess. And Emmanuelle, she...she’s like a fantasy. It was porn sex.”
“And what do you mean by that, Adam?” Laney asks. I shoot her a dark look, because I for one don’t want to know.
“She was really aggressive and, ah, adventurous. And her body is amazing.” I can see why Laney Shields has a panic button. The image of me punching Adam in the throat is deeply, deeply satisfying right about now.
He must read my expression. “I mean, your body’s great, too, Rach. But...well, you know what I mean.”
“You mean I bore your daughters in the three-for-one special because you had a low sperm count, and it took a toll on my body.”
“Right. Blame me for the infertility. Dr. Shields, I have a low sperm count. Apparently, my wife wants the world to know.”
“I just think it’s unfair of you to talk about Emmanuelle’s perfect body when having our children made mine less than perfect,” I bite out.
“Let Adam talk, Rachel,” Laney says calmly.
Adam shoots me a triumphant look, like the teacher just sided with him. “I guess that’s it. Emmanuelle, she’s like a porno movie. Rachel is like a wife.”
“Probably because I am a wife,” I snap.
This is the new me, courtesy of my cheating husband. Angry. Curt. Hostile. All things I’m entitled to be, and all things I hate.
“How did you end things with Emmanuelle?” Laney asks.
Adam sits up straighter and looks Laney in the eye. “I told her that I could not keep up an affair with a coworker when I love my wife. Because I do love Rachel. She’s everything to me.”
“Except a porno movie,” I say.
“Do you have feelings for Emmanuelle?” Laney asks.
He shifts. “Well, yeah. I mean...not love, but...lust. She’s funny. She’s smart. We operate in the same world.”
“How did she take you telling her it was over?” Laney asks.