I woke up with a knot in my chest and the sour taste of a dream I didn’t ask for. Sophia. Chi Chi. Together. Laughing, whispering, turning just enough to let me know I wasn’t invited. My brain really pulled that one out of the gutter for me. Thanks, subconscious. It wasn’t real—I knew that—but my body hadn’t caught up. My jaw ached from clenching my teeth, and my heart still thumped like I’d been chasing them down some hallway I couldn’t escape. I rolled over, hand searching for Sophia out of habit, but her side of the bed was empty and cold. For a second, the emptiness hit hard. Then I reminded myself: she hadn’t walked away. She was still here. Still fighting. The distance between us? That was on me, even if she was the reason it hurt. I scrubbed both hands down my face, trying to erase the dream. Last night’s meditation bought me a few hours of peace, but peace only lasts as long as you hold onto it. This morning, chaos was right back where it always sat.
Downstairs, tense voices floated up the stairwell and into the hall. Desiree, loud and desperate, said, “But Mommy, why can’t he come over?” Sophia’s reply was firm, even from upstairs. Something about going to Alessia’s house. Desi fired back. She didn’t want to go and now wanted to go to Josh’s instead. I couldn’t make out every word, but I didn’t need to. I already knew that tone: Desi pushing, Sophia standing her ground. Two sides of the same stubborn coin.
In a few hours, we’d be in front of a therapist, dragging it all out. No more distractions, no more hiding behind “later.” She’d given me that chance the other night. Counseling was the real test. If I blew that, the gap between us would be permanent. Was I ready for this? It didn’t matter. Time was up.
I pushed myself out of bed and followed the sound of babbling down the hall. Logan was wide awake in his crib, little hands gripping the bars like he’d been waiting on me. The second he spotted me, he squealed and slapped his palms over his eyes. A beat later, he pulled them away, bursting into another squeal like he’d just invented the trick himself. He finally figured out how peek-a-boo worked. Normally, watching him hit a milestone like that would’ve lit up my whole morning. Today, it barely cracked through the weight in my chest. Cute as he was, it didn’t touch the knot I was carrying.
“Alright, buddy,” I murmured, scooping him up. “Let’s get you breakfast.”
By some miracle, we arrived on time. Dropping the kids off in San Myshuno turned out not to be the smartest idea, but it was the best we could do on such short notice. We toyed around with the idea of letting Desi babysit, but we didn’t know how long we’d be gone. We figured it would be best to leave them with my sister. Less had been itching for some time with her nephew, anyway. The office was in downtown San Sequoia near where Dub used to live, all glass and chrome, the kind of place that wanted you to think, expensive. Inside, the guy’s face was plastered on every wall like he was running for mayor of love. Cheesy inspirational quotes in curly fonts floated beneath them: “Connection is a choice!” “Hold hands, heal hearts!” Even the waiting room had a giant relationship moodboard tacked up, covered in stock photos of random couples laughing on beaches or eating salads together. Half of them weren’t even looking at each other. I knew then he was a quack, but I went in for Sophia.
He shook our hands with too much pep and ushered us toward the infamous couch. Even though his suit was cut like an expensive McLayne, the lights revealed shiny, cheap fabric. The man himself was a knockoff. Even his smile felt like it had a return policy. He began by asking me how I was. I kept my feelings close to the vest because I knew he couldn’t help.
“I’m here.”
When he asked Sophia the same thing, she said she was hopeful. That word struck me like she’d placed her whole heart on the table in just one syllable. She really wanted this to work, but this guy was as helpful as a vampire in a blood bank.
Then he rattled off his script. “What areas of your relationship are you struggling in? Is it attraction, satisfaction, your dynamic, or lack of romance?”
Multiple choice? Were we circling bubbles on a test?? I blinked, waiting for the “none of the above” option to pop up. Sophia started to speak, but I couldn’t let it go. Why only four? Were those the only modules he unlocked in whatever online program gave him his credentials? When we both tried to answer at once, he threw up his hands as if we were unruly toddlers.
“You two have chaotic energy,” he declared. “We can’t move forward until you learn to control yourselves. We’ve got a lot of work to do, so pay the receptionist on your way out and schedule another session in a week.”
Twenty minutes. That was the whole appointment. Twenty minutes of nothing.
We walked out stunned, feeling like we’d been pranked. Sophia stopped in front of the metro station, face crumpling like she was about to lose it.
“Luca, I-“
“We are NOT going back to that man!”
“I-I know, but…” She sighed in resignation. “This can’t be it! We have to keep trying!”
“So … what, you wanna find another therapist?” I asked, rolling my eyes.
“Maybe? I don’t know! What I do know is I can’t go another week like this! We need to talk this out. Today!”
One more week of giving my wife the silent treatment did present itself as a painful outlook. I came to this quack’s office prepared to talk. Maybe we can handle it ourselves.
“I wish we knew someone older with more life experience who could help us,” she said.
I didn’t really understand what she was getting at initially and said, “Like Justin?” He’s my friend, but why would she forget about him?
She gasped, and her eyes lit up brighter than the sun.
“Oh my Watcher that’s perfect! He knows how to stay objective. This will work! Call him and see if he’ll help us.”
And then I understood. She wanted a mediator. My initial reaction was to protest because no one else needed to know about our problems. But Sophia was determined. And as I’ve said before, I could never deny her anything. Besides, of all my friends, he was the only one who could stay unbiased like she said, so I dialed his number and gave him our very odd request.
