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appointments. I was sure I wasn’t the only patient she’d dealt with that wasn’t too thrilled with her services.

I let out a deep breath before I responded. “Well…I was really good…then things got really bad again. And now I’m here…”

“What was good?” she asked.

I didn’t want to tell her the truth. That was my secret. I wanted a way to deal with the depression that had resulted because of it, but I couldn’t let the secret be known.

“I got to a point where I felt like I was handling things okay in my life…for the most part.”

“You’re still taking the meds, correct?”

“Yes, I’m still taking them.”

“What made you feel like you couldn’t handle your feelings anymore?”

I sat quiet for a moment, thinking of how I wanted to respond. “I’m not sure exactly. Everything became overwhelming. It’s like every time I think I’m good, there’s this devil on my shoulder telling me that I can’t do it on my own. He likes to remind me that my depression is still alive and well.”

“Not that I think it’s the only solution, but I will raise the dosage on your medication. For now, I think we should try to dig deeper as to what exactly is making you feel this way.”

Again, not a territory I wanted to enter. I’d have to find a way to skirt around the truth.

“Like before, my marriage is rocky. Like, really rocky.” I said.

“I remember you telling me that. Did you mention couples counseling with your husband?”

I had no interest. “Honestly, no. I know he wouldn’t go.”

“You never know for sure until you try. He sees that there’s a problem, he sees that you’re struggling. You need him; you’re not in this alone.”

But I am. That’s what I couldn’t tell her. He didn’t care about counseling, and he didn’t care how I felt. Our marriage was a fraud, and I wasn’t sure how it was even still pieced together at all.

Doctor James went on about the usual things that all psychiatrists have to say. I needed to make sure to get enough sleep, exercise, and take vitamins. She encouraged me to make sure I was in my best health physically, as that would improve my mood. Sure. Those were all things she had to say. Hopefully the higher dose of medicine would help. I wasn’t sure what else I came here expecting.

She strongly encouraged me to make another appointment, so we could try to strategize a plan of treatment. I told her I’d make the appointment online because I wasn’t sure of my schedule. That wasn’t true. The truth was that I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to bring myself back.

The rain had lightened up, but it still continued to drizzle outside, making for an all-around nasty day. I skipped Yoga and went straight to the pharmacy to pick up my new prescription.

To my surprise, Marcus was already home when I got there. All the lights downstairs were off, so after removing my wet shoes and jacket, I headed upstairs. The lamp in his office was on and he was working diligently on his laptop.

“Hey,” I said, standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said. “You go to Yoga?”

“Not tonight. I had a doctor’s appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” he asked.

“Just a regular check-up,” I lied. “Speaking of doctors, have you made an appointment? I know it’s been a while since your incident, but I really think you need to go.” I’d been pressuring him for a while to go to the doctor. He still occasionally complained of chest pains, and his blood pressure wasn’t very consistent.

“I just haven’t had the time to make the appointment. If you make it, I’ll go.” He said,

“You know you can do a lot of this stuff online now?” I asked, joking.

“I didn’t know that.”

“I got you,” I said. “Pizza for dinner?”

“Sounds good to me, babe.”

It was the most normal interaction we’d had in a while, although deep down I knew nothing was normal at all. I grabbed my laptop, ordered a pizza for delivery, and then headed over to the doctor’s website to find a cardiologist that would see him without a referral. The doorbell rang and the pizza arrived before I completed the process, but I finally had it finished.

“Your appointment is next Tuesday at eight a.m.”

“Perfect time. I can go there then go straight into work.” He said. “Thanks honey.”

“Sure.” I said.

We had pizza in front of the TV and we actually talked that night. We talked about work, and our families, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was still being deceitful. I had given up on spying. It caused too much hurt and I’d seen enough, but did his affair still exist? There was a part of me that wished things were repairable between us. I never wanted my life to go this way. I wasn’t sure when the cycle of madness would end.

***

I was halfway through my workday and getting ready to take my lunch break when I saw a text on my phone from Melinda. It was sent at nine a.m. that morning, but I’d been so busy, I hadn’t even glanced at the device.

Melinda: URGENT! ARE YOU THERE?

Melinda: PLEASE LOOK AT YOUR PHONE.

Me: What’s wrong???

Melinda: I need you! Are you going to lunch? It’s almost twelve…

Me: Yes. I am. What’s up?

Melinda: I need you to go to that restaurant over there by the aquarium. He’s going to be there soon. At least, he’s supposed to be. See who he’s with!

Me: How do you know? Did he tell you? I’m sure if he told you, he wouldn’t be doing anything he shouldn’t be.

Melinda: He left his e-mail up on his computer this morning and I don’t know who the recipient is,

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