Tears slid down my cheeks.
“Like I hit a milestone… and it still didn’t meet your standards. So I stopped looking for celebrations at home.”
“I’d rather be at work,” he admitted. “Clients cheered for me. My colleagues respected me. People congratulated me for things I accomplished.”
He shrugged. “Out there… I felt appreciated. I worked harder so you’d never have to worry about money. You could swipewhatever card you wanted. Buy whatever you wanted. I never complained.”
“But the more I worked,” he said, trying not to get emotional. “The more exhausted I became. The bills were paid. We had overflow money like you wanted. The lifestyle was there….. And then the arguments started.”
“You wanted more time and I didn’t understand how I could give more time when everything I was doing… I thought you loved.”
“This,” Sydnee said gently, “is one of the most painful marital misalignments. You were both loving each other through your own wounds.”
Sydnee wrote something on her notepad before she turned toward me.
“Khloe,” she said, resting the pen against her notebook, “when did the arguments actually begin?”
“They started… when we finally made it.”
Both of them looked at me.
“When our dream home was built. When I was fully established in my career. When our finances stopped being stressful and life finally felt stable. It had taken years, and I thought we had reached the finish line. I thought that once everything settled… I could finally have my husband back.”
My voice cracked. “I wanted spontaneous dates, random trips, late nights talking. I wanted us to rediscover each other without the stress hanging over our heads.”
I started crying hard. “I even wanted another baby. I felt ready again. Kennedi was older. My career was stable. The house was done. I finally felt like I could breathe.”
Tears filled my eyes. “But every time I brought it up… you were against it.”
“Life became easier financially,” I said, “but emotionally… nothing changed for me.I was still running a household, raisingour child, and managing my career. I was overwhelmed… but I kept telling myself this was the life I asked for. So at the end of every day… the only thing I wanted was to be under my husband.”
“It hurt when you came home late,” I admitted. “It hurt when date nights got canceled. When trips got postponed. When work kept winning over me.”
Kairo rubbed his jaw slowly, listening.
“I didn’t need money anymore,” I said. “I needed you. And the only time I felt like I truly had your undivided attention… was when we were having sex.”
Sydnee didn’t interrupt. She nodded, allowing me to keep going.
“So I became hyper-fixated on it. I wanted sex all the time. Multiple times a day, everyday. Not just because of desire… but because it was the only moment where I felt fully chosen.”
Tears fell from Kairo’s eyes.
“When we were having sex, you weren’t checking emails. You weren’t answering calls. You weren’t thinking about deals. You were just mine.”
I wiped my cheeks. “But then you started getting tired. And every time you said you were exhausted… or rolled over to sleep… It felt like rejection. It made me feel like I wanted you more than you wanted me. And then one night, you said something about a hall pass.”
Kairo’s head lifted immediately.
“You said it like it was nothing, but it crushed me. Instead of hearing a joke… I heard confirmation that my husband believed someone else might be able to give me what he couldn’t.”
“And what did you feel in that moment, Khloe?” Sydnee asked.
“Lonely and unwanted… while standing inside my own marriage.”
Her pen tapped against her notebook. “Once loneliness enters a marriage… the mind starts searching for relief. Kairo, do you want to say anything back to that?”
I stared down at my hands, embarrassed by how exposed I felt. Like pieces of me I didn’t even understand were now sitting in the middle of the room for inspection.
