The personal detail surprised me.
Margaret rarely discussed her childhood.
For a second, my defenses lowered.
Then she said:
"You are destroying your family."
The defenses returned.
"I am not destroying anything."
"Simon is the one who left."
"Why did he leave?"
"Because he can't handle one mistake."
"Have you called it a mistake yet?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came.
Margaret answered for me.
"Exactly."
She hung up soon after.
That evening I suggested counseling.
Partly because I wanted to save the marriage.
Partly because I believed a neutral professional would confirm that Simon's reaction was disproportionate.
That second motive is important.
"Maybe we need a therapist," I said.
Simon was helping June assemble a puzzle on the floor.
He looked up.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
His expression softened for the first time in days.
"I'd do that."
I felt immediate relief.
"Good."
"I'll find someone."
"Okay."
We scheduled an appointment for the following Thursday with Dr. Marissa Feld, a couples counselor recommended by our insurance provider.
For two days, Simon seemed more open.
Not normal.
But hopeful.
Then Wednesday night I became anxious.
I started searching online.
Marriage counseling after betrayal.
Is kissing cheating?
Emotional infidelity definitions.
Controlling husband overreaction.
Some articles supported me.
Others did not.
The more I read, the more frightened I became that the therapist would ask exactly what my mother and Simon had asked.
Are you sorry you hurt him?
Why did you continue after he said no?
Would you do it again?
Why did feeling desired by an audience matter more than his boundary?
Thursday morning, I canceled.
I told Simon:
Work emergency. Deadline moved.
He replied:
Can we reschedule?
I said:
Next week.
There was no emergency.
That lie became mistake number three.
Maybe number ten.
I had lost track by then.
The worst part was how unnecessary it was.
I could have said:
I am scared to go.
Instead, I lied.
Simon found out accidentally.
He called my office looking for my direct line because his phone had broken and he was trying to confirm June's pickup schedule. Linda answered.
During the conversation she mentioned I had taken the afternoon off "for that appointment."
Simon did not confront me immediately.
That frightened me when he finally did.
"How was the emergency?"
"Stressful."
"What happened?"
"Client deadline."
He nodded.
"Which client?"
I stared.
"Why are you interrogating me?"
"I'm not."
He looked exhausted.
"Linda told me you had requested this afternoon off for the counseling appointment."
I felt trapped.
"Why were you talking to Linda?"
"My phone died."
"I called the office about June."
"That's not the point."
"You checked up on me."
"No."
"I discovered you lied."
"Those aren't the same thing."