“What kind of things?” Dr. Brett asks carefully.
“I just can’t stop picturing it,” I admit. “Her with this nameless, faceless guy. My wife. With someone else.” My jaw tightens. “It keeps replaying whether I want it to or not.”
I drag a hand down my face.
“And now I’m supposed to what?” I continue. “Just decide. Just like that. Am I staying or leaving? Am I forgiving her or walking away?”
Dr. Brett studies me carefully.
“No one expects you to make that decision immediately,” he says. “You’re allowed to take time.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Tell that to her. I asked for space and she gave it, but she keeps looking at me like… like I’m hurting her.”
I trail off, because I know he’ll get it.
“And that makes you uncomfortable,” he finishes.
I nod. “Yeah. It does.”
“You feel the need to end that conflict?” he says.
“Pretty much,” I admit. “Sucks to be me, huh?”
“Mr. West,” he says, leaning forward slightly, “you are allowed time. You don’t owe her emotional comfort right now. Not at the expense of your own process.”
That makes me bristle.
“So I just ignore her?” I ask.
“No,” he replies calmly. “But Mrs. West has the same resources you do. It’s not your job to take care of her or help her manage the fallout fromhermistakes.”
I shift in the chair, uncomfortable with how right that sounds.
“I know your instinct is to be the protector,” he continues. “The compromiser. The one who smooths things over. But can you honestly say you feel capable of that right now?”
I shake my head before he even finishes.
“I’m not,” I admit. “I know I’m supposed to love her… but I don’t really like her right now.”
He nods, like that makes perfect sense.
“What about the kids?” I ask, my eyes drifting to the locked bedroom door. “I can’t just shut down in front of them and I won’t move out.”
“Of course not,” he says. “But protecting your children does not mean pretending everything is fine.”
I let out a breath. “So… what? Fake it.”
“No,” he corrects gently. “There is a technique known as structured separation. In which spouses remain in the same house to raise their children, but they don’t operate as a couple while they work through their issues.”
I frown. “You mean like roommates.”
“In simple terms, yes,” he says. “Boundaries. Clear expectations. No emotional conversations unless both parties agree to them. No pressure to reconcile. Just stability for the children while you figure out what you want.”
That makes sense.
“But that sounds… cold,” I mutter.
“It can feel that way,” he admits. “But it’s often healthier than constant conflict or pretending to be okay when you’re not.”
