My stomach twists.
Infidelity recovery.
Jesus.
I sit back in my chair, rub my hands over my face, and stare at the ceiling for a long minute. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to drag my shit out in front of a stranger. I don’t want Lore sitting next to me while I admit, again, how badly I messed up.
But I want my wife back.
More than I want my pride.
I dial the number, my thumb hesitating for a second before I press call.
It rings. Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up.
A woman picks up. “Orange Cove Counseling, how can I help you?”
My mouth feels like sandpaper. The words won’t come out.
“Hello?” she repeats.
I force the words out. “Hi. Yeah. I… uh… I need to schedule an appointment. Marriage counseling.”
There’s a soft pause. Then, “Alright. And is this for you and your partner?”
A beat.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “It’s for me and my wife.”
Turns out it’s not as simple as just booking a time. She asks for my insurance, what I do, what Lore does. Then she hits me with:
“It seems your insurance falls under our coverage. Dr. Nina, our head counselor, feels it’s best if partners start with an individual session before sitting together. Is that something you’d like, or would you feel more comfortable starting with the couples’ session?”
I clear my throat. “Couples.”
“Alright, sir,” she says politely. “Are there any particular days you’d be available?”
I flip open our shared calendar. Lore’s off Monday.
“Monday,” I say.
She hums. Papers shuffle. “We have an eleven-a.m. slot and a four-p.m. slot available.”
“Eleven,” I answer.
“Perfect. I’ll get that scheduled. If you need to make any changes, feel free to call us back.”
I thank her and hang up. Then I just sit there, staring at my phone like an idiot.
I probably should’ve talked to Lore before making the appointment. But she’ll have to understand.
Something has to change.
Chapter Eleven
Lorelie
“Absolutely not.”
