“I love her,” I continue. “That part’s easy. But sometimes it still hits me. The images. The fact that she let me apologize while hiding something this big.”
I swallow.
“And I don’t want to wake up a year from now more angry than ever.”
Dr. Nina nods once.
“That,” she says calmly, “is a man who understands delayed resentment.”
Jess exhales shakily.
“I don’t want you swallowing it,” she says quietly.
Dr. Nina looks at her. “What do you want?”
Jess hesitates.
“I want him to tell me when it hurts,” she says. “Even if it’s ugly or repetitive. I’d rather hear it than have him withdraw.”
Nina’s eyes move back to me.
“Can you do that?”
I think about it.
“How does that even work?” I ask finally. “Am I supposed to bring it up every time it pops into my head? Am I supposed to yell when we’re fighting about dishes and suddenly I remember she slept with someone else?” I shake my head. “We’ve got two kids. Two dogs. A company. Life doesn’t exactly pause so I can deal.”
Nina nods calmly.
“You’re not meant to weaponize it,” she says. “And you’re not meant to suppress it either.”
“That sounds convenient,” I mutter.
“It’s structured,” she corrects. “There’s a difference.”
Jess shifts closer to me but stays quiet.
Nina continues, “When the thought surfaces, you identify it. You don’t explode. You don’t accuse. You don’t punish. You say something like: ‘I’m triggered right now.’”
I frown. “That sounds… stupid.”
“It’s clarity,” she replies. “You are separating the past event from the present argument.”
Jess nods slowly. “So if we’re fighting about schedules and it suddenly feels bigger than it should… we pause?”
“Yes,” Nina says. “Because what you’re actually fighting about isn’t the schedule. It’s safety.”
I lean back, jaw tight.
“And what happens when I say I’m triggered?” I ask.
Jess answers before Nina can.
“I don’t defend,” she says quietly. “I don’t say ‘that was a year ago.’ I don’t minimize it. I listen.”
Nina watches us carefully.
“And Logan,” she adds, “you don’t use it as leverage. You don’t say, ‘You owe me.’”
