Rachel

Lately, Adam is being perfect, which makes me irritable. I don’t know why. I’m not myself anymore. Thoughtful things he used to do—bringing me flowers, offering to pick up dinner for him and me to eat after the girls are asleep—everything is suspect, a bribe, a cover, an apology. We talked about this in therapy, our weekly Tuesday night appointment.

“I’m trying to do everything I can to show Rachel how much I want our marriage to work,” Adam says. “Nothing makes a difference. I feel like I’ll be punished for this forever.”

That sounds about right, I think.

“What are your thoughts on that, Rachel?” Laney asks.

I look at my hands. “I feel like he’s trying to prove he’s husband of the year, and while I do think he should be groveling—” Jenny’s word “—everything seems like it’s for show.”

Adam throws his hands up in the air. “Then, what? What can prove that I’m not being fake?”

I don’t answer for a second. Nothing. The answer is nothing. “Adam, if I knew the answer, I’d tell you. You broke my trust. You cheated. When I asked you about it, you lied. You swore you’d be faithful to me in a church, and if you can’t live up to that, what can you live up to? Why should I believe you now?”

“Like I’m the only man who’s ever cheated. The only spouse,” he hastily corrects.

“I guess the fact that you still see Emmanuelle every day is hard for me to get past,” I say. “If there was one thing you could do, it’d be leave the firm.”

He sighs hugely. “We’ve been over this, and over it, and over it.” He looks at Laney, that tolerant “women are so irrational” look he’s given me so many times. “I can’t leave the firm,” he says. “There’s no way I could get a job that pays this much in this area. I could go work for the Public Defender’s office and make a fifth of what I make now, but then Rachel would have to give up her house, and the private nursery school, and maybe you might actually have to get a job, too.”

“Is that something you’d consider, Rachel?” Laney asks.

“Yes,” I lie. Well, no, I’d consider it. I just haven’t yet.

What I want most is my old life. My old self. I miss me, if such a thing is possible. I miss the way I looked at Adam, my wonderful, handsome, funny husband. I miss that sense of wonder and happiness that he picked me. I miss the utter joy I felt when the five of us did anything together. Even if the girls were fussy or knocked over their drink, whenever we were in public, I’d be smiling. It wasn’t smugness. It was just happiness. Plain, simple happiness.

“So, Adam,” Laney says, “why don’t you at least try to see what else is out there?”

“Fine,” he grumbles. Resentment rolls off him like a thick fog. “You know what I’d like to talk about? Just to change the subject from what a shit I am to something a little different.”

“Go ahead,” Laney says.

He turns to me. “You’re angry because I had an affair, and I totally understand that. But did you ever think about the reason I did it?”

“Yes. I’ve thought about that a lot.”

“You ever think that maybe I felt like you weren’t interested in sex anymore?”

“What?” I shriek. “How dare you? We did it all the time! Much more than any other couple I know!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t like it.”

“What?”

“What do you mean, Adam? Why do you think that?” Laney asks.

He looks at her and crosses his legs. “She fell asleep. During. Not before. During.” He says it with the same gravity and accusation as if he’d just found a crystal-meth lab in our basement.

My face prickles.

“You didn’t even think I noticed, did you?” he says smugly, now the injured party. “So maybe I strayed because it was clear I was just burdening you with wanting a normal sex life.”

“Rachel?” Laney says. “Would you like to respond?”

“I would,” I say. “Yes, I fell asleep one time. The girls had had a stomach virus, I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a week, but I happen to love sex, and I’ve been very conscious of keeping it in our life together, and one time I fell asleep for a second.”

“How do you think that made me feel?” Adam asks.

“How do you think I felt, Adam? I was exhausted! So what does this mean? I can’t get tired or you have permission to fuck around?” There it is, the foul mouth that never existed before.

“Rachel, let me just ask you this. Why didn’t you tell Adam you were too tired, and all you wanted was a good night’s rest?”

I pause. “Because I didn’t...I didn’t want him to think of me like that.”

“Like a human?” she says with a faint smile.

“Like a wife who’s too tired for sex.”

“But you were too tired. Just that one time, maybe, but probably more. You’re not letting Adam see you as a regular person, which can be distancing.”

“So...this is my fault? His affair is my fault?”

“No, no, not at all. Adam is the only one responsible for the affair. But true intimacy is more than just sex on regularly scheduled nights. He has to know how you feel. You’re a very capable woman who’s a wonderful mother and has created a lovely home.”