Dr. Elowen never gave up that easily. “Has this decision affected any other major decisions about your separation?”
“No,” Maggie said, like it was easy for her to admit.
Gwen flinched.
Dr. Elowen glanced between the two of them. “It seems to me like Gwen is stepping up and being there for you when you need her to be.”
Ah, this recurring theme. Gwen had Maggie’s caustic words of their very first session six months ago memorized, like they’d burned the inside of Gwen’s brain upon hearing them.
“You weren’t there. Not when my mom died. Not when I needed you. You buried yourself in work and asked me what I needed like I was going to hand you a list. I didn’t want a list, Gwen. I wanted you.”
Those words had haunted her, mostly because they’d been true. And she’d spent almost every day since in a tangle of trying to judge whether Maggie wanted her to step up and be there now, or wanted her to stay away, to let her deal with her suffocating grief alone.
“Let me ask you this, Maggie. How are you feeling about her joining? About the choice to not tell your friends?” Dr. Elowen added, yanking Gwen back to the present.
Maggie clenched her jaw. “I…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath through her nose. “I initially felt like Gwen was punishing me for delaying telling my friends, and now I’m caught in this big lie, and my friend group is not exactly… fantastic when it comes to honesty, so I’m just feeling… Well, I’m feeling frustrated, to be honest.”
Dr. Elowen nodded, then glanced toward Gwen. “How does it make you feel to know she’s frustrated about this?”
Before Gwen could answer, Maggie began again. “On the other hand, I’m grateful to Gwen for rolling with this absolutely ridiculous plan. My friends are happy and engaged, and I don’t want to be the one divorced sad lady drunkenly slurring that love is a lie the whole weekend.”
The very specific mental image was not difficult for Gwen to conjure: Danica and Pete cozied up together, Izzy and Kiera comfortably holding hands, and Maggie, all by herself. She grimaced.
Maggie looked toward the ceiling. “So really I’m feeling conflicted, is what it comes down to. Gwen saved me from an awkward and uncomfortable situation by, in turn, creating a new awkward and uncomfortable situation. Except this time, onlywe’reuncomfortable, not everyone else, you know?”
A crease formed between Dr. Elowen’s eyebrows, and she seemed nervous. That made Gwen feel nervous, too, like watching a surgeon pause mid-incision to check the manual.
Gwen turned toward Maggie. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you into telling them.”
Maggie glanced her way, the weight of her bright blue eyes shining wholly on Gwen in a way that felt both familiar and surprising.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Gwen felt like they were standing side by side instead of across a chasm. She didn’t know what that meant yet. Some silent accord passed between them — an unspoken agreement that maybe they could do this. Maybe not forever. Maybe not even well. But together, for now.
“I’m going to respect Maggie’s boundaries, and it’s only a weekend,” Gwen said. “As for everything else after… I don’t know.”
There was a pause. The hum of the AC kicked in overhead. Dr. Elowen looked thoughtful. “It’s okay not to have the whole story written yet. But going on this trip might offer you both some clarity about what’s next.”
Gwen wasn’t sure if she wanted clarity or just a few days where nothing needed deciding. Still, she’d made the choice to go, and for now, that was enough.
As they rose, Dr. Elowen glanced toward the door. “Maggie, can I speak to you alone?”
Maggie glanced nervously toward Gwen, but then nodded. “Of course.”
Gwen slipped out the door and back into the easy routine of giving Maggie her space.
When they returned homefrom therapy, the kids were in bed and her mom was sitting on the couch. Maggie gave her a short wave and murmured acknowledgment and thanks — she hadn’t seen Maggie hug her mom since her own mom had passed. She wanted to ask Maggie what Dr. Elowen had wanted to talk to her about in private but was torn about wanting to let Maggie have her privacy. Maggie didn’t seem like she wanted to share, anyway, as she hurried up the stairs and into the primary bedroom they once shared.
Gwen flopped down onto the couch beside her mom. “Thanks for watching the kiddos this evening. And this weekend. And for everything,” Gwen said.
“You know I’m always happy to hang out with my grandbabies. Lord knows Logan will never give me any,” her mom said with an eye roll. Her graying curls were clipped back, and she had a mug of chamomile tea in one hand, the kind ofserene air Gwen had always associated with her. “You okay, honey?”
Gwen smiled weakly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m going on a bachelorette trip with my almost-ex-wife where we have to pretend everything is fine. Define okay.”
Her mom leaned forward to set her tea down with aclink. “Are you hoping to rekindle something? Or are you just going for the group games and cucumber water?”
Gwen hesitated. “Did you talk to Logan? Because he was so Team Rekindle, I was surprised.”
Her mom’s smile softened. “He might have mentioned something.”
