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We sat down and I exhaled sharply. Maybe this session would stop the murderous thoughts consuming my head.

“How has your relationship progressed since your last visit?”

“We’ve had sex.”

“That’s good. I remember that being an issue. Anything else?”

“No.”

“So just sex…?”

I nodded.

“Well, as much as that’s a step in the right direction, there’s a lot more to a relationship. Have you both tried communicating?”

“We talk just fine.”

He shook his head. “Communication is more than just talking, it’s: listening, hearing, understanding, providing a safe space for opening up and sharing emotions.”

“I know that—what makes you think I don’t know that?”

He paused, then jotted something down. I was pulled out of my tensed state and rolled my shoulders back once before straightening my spine.

“Let’s go back to the sex. If I recall correctly, Mrs. De Luca had zero interest in any sexual activities with you. What made her change her mind, if I may ask? Was it you?”

Something in my brain sounded like an alarm bell. “I don’t need to force my wife to have sex with me.”

His sigh was barely audible as his shoulders dropped. “What happened?”

I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“We can’t solve your marital problems when you have unsolved personal problems.”

My jaw tightened.

“You’ve been defensive as soon as you walked in, and it’s clear that something else is disrupting your ability to fully immerse yourself in this session.”

“I’m here because of my marriage. Nothing else. You either talk about that or I’m leaving.”

He nodded once then wrote something down. “Of course.”

A deafening silence brewed and I lifted my hand to my collar, tugging it slightly. I glanced around, the room holding its usual dim orange glow in contrast to the dark clouds outside.

“Tell me, Mr. De Luca, when was the last time there was conflict between the two of you, and how did you work through it if you did?”

My jaw ticked. “Last night.”

He seemed both surprised and not at the same time. “May I ask what it was about?”

I glanced away, my pointer finger tapping the armrest. “We can’t seem to understand each other.”

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

My eyes snapped to him then narrowed, but it did nothing to stop him.

“Have you tried understanding her.”

“Of course I fucking have.”