Page 42 of The Hotel Room

Dr. Adler's brow furrowed, the first sign of reaction. “Do you think she’s punishing you, or protecting herself?”

James clenched his fists. “She’s blowing thiswayout of proportion. I work my ass off for this family. I’ve paid for everything—the house, the kids’ schools, her entire life. She hasn’t worked in sixteen years. I’ve given her everything.”

Dr. Adler’s eyes narrowed, voice gentle but firm. “Are you saying she owes you loyalty because of financial dependence?”

“No.”

The word snapped out too quickly.

Then he softened, struggling to explain.

“I’m saying...I’veprovided. That’s what a husband does. And now she’s tearing our family apart like none of that matters. Like one mistake eraseseverything. And that’s not fair.”

Silence lingered between them.

Finally, Dr. Adler leaned forward, her voice lower, measured. “James...you keep saying it was just sex. But you also admitted it wasn’t fulfilling. That it didn’t give you what you thought you were looking for. So I’m going to ask again: Why did you cheat?”

His throat felt tight.

Because hewascurious.

Because it felt like he’d missed out.

BecauseNick made it sound so easy.

Because he’d spent his whole life being thegood guy, the responsible one, and one night he’d wanted to know what it felt like to take something just for himself.

But saying it out loud would make it sound...selfish. Ugly.

So instead, he forced out:

“Because I’m a man, and I was curious. I shouldn’t have to explain that. Any guy would feel the same after seventeen years with one woman. I made a mistake. She needs to get over it.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

Dr. Adler studied him, silent for a long moment. Then she placed her notepad down, folding her hands neatly.

“James, it sounds like you’re not actually seeking to repair your marriage. It sounds like you’re asking your wife to minimize her pain so you don’t have to face your own guilt.”

His stomach twisted hard.

“That’s not—”

She cut him off gently.

“You came here because you said you wanted to fix this. But it seems like you’re more focused on defending yourself than asking why it happened at all.”

James’s jaw clenched, heat prickling under his skin.

He didn’t answer.

Because deep down—

He knew she was right.

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James sat at the kitchen table, the journal from his therapy session open in front of him, the blank page staring back like it was mocking him. His pen hovered, tapping lightly against the paper.

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