“Tell me the first thing which is popping into your head.”
“I watched my husband having sex with another woman while I was having a miscarriage e, now I’m getting a divorced, left the apartment I’ve lived in for nearly eight years and wondering whether the man I married was the one I knew or if he was always this way. Mostly the sex and miscarriage and stuff,” Juniper watched the surprise on the therapist’s face, “too much?”
“No. Let’s dive right in. I’m presuming this wasn’t consensual experimentation in your marriage within the confines of clearly defined boundaries?”
“No. Not in the least.”
“What happened?”
“My husband and I were going through fertility issues. I was having a bit of a tough time getting pregnant over the last three years. About a year ago we went through a miscarriage and the only person we told at the time we were pregnant was my mother. We both started attending specialized appointments with my gynecologist. Six months ago, at Christmas, I had a second miscarriage. We’d made it to eight weeks and so we’d told his parents and a couple of other people. It made it so much worse.”
“How so?”
“His mother made a big production out of it like it was her loss. She didn’t want me to forget my dead baby. I could see though how much Kyst was devastated and how much he wanted to be a father.”
“I see.”
“The doctor ran some tests. Kyst, my husband, soon-to-be-ex-husband,” she gritted out, “has great sperm count. I have all kinds of viable eggs, and my uterus is fine. She suggested changing some things in our day-to-day lives. No alcohol at all. Sex during peak ovulation and not every single day, multiple times a day. Remembering to take time to relax and spend time together as a couple. She suggested some couples find scheduling sexy time, as she called it, can deepen intimacy and give us something to look forward to. It did the opposite.”
“How?”
“We enjoyed a very healthy sexual relationship. Since we were teenagers, actually. Even on the odd times he was away, we’d call each other and do phone or video sex.”
“And when you went from having sex daily to on this schedule set out by your physician, what changed?”
“Honestly, not much to me. I mean, I still made sure he was taken care of.”
“And your needs?”
“I was trying to create a good hospitable environment.”
“So how did it create a negative situation?”
“He cheated.”
“Was it one time or an affair?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really but I’m trying to see the bigger picture.”
“An affair,” she said the words lowly, color staining her cheeks. “I couldn’t let him put his dick in me every day, so he found another hole to put it in.” She looked up apologetically. “I’m sorry for being crass.”
“You’re angry. Let’s sit in this for a moment. Sit in the anger. Feel it around you. Stew in it a moment.”
After what felt decades but she knew was only a few minutes, the therapist spoke softly, “if Kyst was in front of you right now, what would you say to him? Pretend I am Kyst. Tell me what you are feeling.”
“I hate you. I hate you for taking something so sacred and special as being the only one either of us were ever intimate with and destroying it because I was trying to bring a child into this world for you. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to have a child until you and your family pressured me and with every miscarriage I felt angrier with you, and you never even noticed. This last pregnancy, I was terrified to tell you because I knew how disappointed you were going to be again when it failed, and I knew it was going to fail. You surprised me by saying maybe we shouldn’t put off having kids and now I know why! All you cared about was the fact you went from sex seven days a week to a few days a month for only three months. What were you going to do when the baby came and I couldn’t screw for six to eight weeks post-partum? What would you do during sleep deprivation and teething and all the exhaustion which comes with being a new parent and sex is off the table? What then? Would you be bringing them into our house when I’m home instead of when I’m out? Three months of reduced sexual activity was all it took for you to decide you needed something more and maybe you didn’t want a baby. You’re a selfish, horrible human being and I hate you for ruining what I thought was a pure, sweet love. Fuck you!”
Her therapist gave her a smile, “you are very eloquent.”
She wiped angry tears off her cheeks. “I feel so angry.”
“As you should. He violated you in so many ways. You mentioned sex in your home when you weren’t there. Is this where you caught him?”
“Ugh,” she groaned and rubbed her head. “This the worst part. He very stupidly cheated on me with the wife of Phineas Perez who is also my boss. Not my direct boss, but he’s my boss’s boss. I was called to the office and Phineas told me bluntly my husband was fucking his wife and asked me to help him catch them. We put cameras in my apartment. I saw him having sex on my sofa and an hour later the miscarriage I’d been dreading for four days finally started.”
“And this Mr. Perez, how did he react when he realized what happened to you?”
“He, Beni and Adil all feel very guilty and apologized hundreds of times. Phineas set my mom and I up at a spa yesterday. Beni set this appointment up for me. Adil offered to teach me some self-defense because he’s concerned Kyst’s behavior at the time he was engaging in sex was really off.”
“Off how?”
“I’ve never heard Kyst raise his voice at me. Don’t get me wrong, we fight like every other couple. Silent treatment for a couple of hours or slamming out of the apartment to clear our heads but he’s never yelled at me out of anger. He’s never hurt me. I was thinking of a time we were trying to experiment, and I got a flogger, and he used it on my backside, and it hurt, and he tossed it aside and refused to ever use it again.” She shook her head, “but with Denise, in my apartment, he was rough. He was cold and callous, and he was demeaning and vile. I heard some of the things he said to her, and I can’t figure out why she kept sleeping with him. If anyone spoke to me as he did, I’d not stick around.”
“Was it her kink? To be treated poorly? Did Phineas say?”
She looked up in shock, “I don’t know. Phineas said he only ever was with her sexually once and she lay there and did nothing.”
“Maybe they were both playing out fantasies. However, Adil is the private investigator?”
“Yes.”
“I would say trust his judgement. If he is of the opinion, after years of watching people behave inappropriately that Kyst’s behavior was highly unusual, then being self-aware and protecting yourself is not a bad idea.”
“When will the other feelings stop?” she asked quietly.
“Which other feelings?”
“The ones where I want to go home and cry into his Kyst’s arms because he’s always been the person I rely on? I can’t rely on him anymore. He’s been one of my best friends my entire life and now, more than our romantic relationship, I’m missing the friendship. When does that pain stop?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.