Page 13 of Changing Tides

“Ellie introduced me to her psychiatrist friend recently. I think I am going to give him a call today,” I tell Claire, knowing it will reassure her.

“I think that’s a good idea,” she deadpans. I can always count on Claire not to sugarcoat anything. She tells it like it is. I appreciate that most of the time, but right now I am feeling delicate. She must sense it because her voice softens. “Hey, I’m always here for you, you know,” she says gently.

I let out a deep breath. “I know. I’ll call you later.”

* * *

I called Dr. Stevens,who still insists that I call him Robert and that any friend of Ellie’s is a friend of his, and he told me his morning was slow. I guess he could hear the trembling in my voice because he asked if I wanted to come down and chat with him. The idea of being the one on the couch feels foreign to me, but I know it’s something I have to do. I walk slowly up Perry Street, my feet still sore, until I hit Lafayette Street where Dr. Stevens’s office is.

As I walk, I take in the sights, sounds, and smells of downtown. There is minimal traffic for 8:30 a.m. Shops are getting ready to open, little cafés are bustling, and a few people are getting their early morning jogs in. The salt air is everything I need to calm my nervous system.

Dr. Stevens’s office is in a strip of stores, the second from the corner. The building is white stucco with a black awning and bold black lettering on a large window that saysThe Psychiatry Office of Dr. Robert M. Stevens. I open the door and a little bell chimes. The office is bright, airy, and welcoming. Instead of the standard doctors’ office chairs, several plush gray armchairs line the walls and the open space. Raw-edge teakwood tables bookend the row of chairs and a bigger teakwood coffee table sits in the middle. They are gorgeous and exactly what my style would be if I were decorating a beach house.

While I wait for someone to appear at the front desk, I walk around and check out his various diplomas and accolades hanging on the wall. He was voted best psychiatrist of Cape May County for several years in a row. I let out a breath through my mouth.At least he knows what he’s doing.

I mosey over to one of the plush armchairs and sit down. I nervously pick up a copy ofPsychology Today,and I am thumbing through it when Dr. Stevens comes out. I have only been waiting about five minutes, but the anxiety in my chest has me feeling like it’s been five hours.

“Sophie, how wonderful to see you.” He smiles warmly, walking across the room to embrace me.

“Hi, Dr. Stevens,” I squeeze him back and then pull away. “Your office is lovely. I was looking at all your accolades. And I just love these end tables.” The nervous energy is real.

He chuckles. “Thank you. I’m not sure if you know him, but they were made by Ellie’s neighbor, Liam. You know, the one with the baby she watches.” He starts walking and gestures for me to follow. “Please, this way.”

I feel my cheeks warm and my neck tingle at the mention of Liam. I’m surprised at the level of craftsmanship he is capable of. “Oh, yes, I know Liam. I am actually watching Lucy for him tonight. I didn’t know he could build such beautiful things.” I always did love a man who works with his hands. The realization makes me even more curious about this beautiful, broody man.

“He’s one of the more popular artisans in town. You can find his work down in some of the stores at the mall.” Dr. Stevens says. He leads me into his office, gestures toward a very comfortable looking tufted couch, and takes a seat in the chair opposite me. “So, Sophie, how are you feeling today?”

I take a moment to appreciate that he isn’t behind some big desk and making this feel all clinical. He’s simply sitting in an armchair opposite me, like I’m talking to a friend. I take a deep breath before I unload on him.

“I had a panic attack this morning, and I can’t help but feel that I am avoiding all of the important things in my life by being here in Cape May. I haven’t answered any of my ex-husband’s calls or texts. He has reached out multiple times about selling our house and I have done nothing but avoid the situation. It’s easier to just put on a front and immerse myself in the present moment so I don’t have to think about it. I’m not ready to think about it.”

I plop backward on the couch. Dr. Stevens makes it feel very casual here. I feel like I am complaining to Claire over margs and that makes me feel like I can speak freely.

“I see,” he says. “Why do you suppose you feel like you’re avoiding important things? You came here seeking solace, right?” He jots something down in his notebook.

I shrug. I feel the tears well up, threatening to fall. I haven’t spent a lot of time talking about my own feelings. Generally, I am talking withothersabouttheirfeelings. This part feels unfamiliar and scary.

I let out an unsteady breath. “This morning while I was having the panic attack, I called my best friend Claire. Usually, I know what to do to bring other people out of their own panic attacks, but I have never had one of my own before. I couldn’t find a rational thought. She helped me breathe through it. Then she encouraged me to get outside for a walk and to make a plan. But I’m paralyzed. It’s been six days that I’ve been here, and I haven’t put one thought into what happens next.”

“Can you tell me a bit about how you got to this place?” Dr. Stevens’ voice is gentle, making me want to open up to him.

I give him the recap of the past six weeks and it all tumbles out of me like word vomit. I tell him how James not only carried on an affair, but that his mistress is pregnant. I tell him how this is a particularly hard pill to swallow because James and I struggled with infertility for seven years, eventually finding out that the reason we couldn’t have a family had nothing to do with him and everything to do with my inhospitable uterus. I tell him that I drove to Cape May the day I signed my divorce papers. In the state of Pennsylvania, there is no separation period if it’s a mutual divorce. James didn’t even try to convince me to work it out. We both knew it was over as soon as he told me she was pregnant.

“Now I’m in a ninety-day waiting period until the divorce is final in court. Coming here for the first few weeks seemed like a good way to heal and figure out what comes next.” I sniffle and shudder a deep breath. When I’m finished, I wipe my mascara-streaked cheeks, blotting under my eyes for any excess with a tissue Dr. Stevens held out for me while I cried.

Dr. Stevens appears thoughtful and then he speaks. “Sophie, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Not many people would know what to do with this turn of events,” he says gently. “I know you feel you should be doing more right now, but there is nothing wrong with taking your time. This is your life and your well-being.” He is so sincere when he says this that I instantly feel relief.

“You’re right. But I haven’t even thought about where to go from here. We were married forthirteenyears. I never thought he would do this to me.” I sniffle as my eyes fill with fresh tears. “I never imagined I wouldn’t be the person he became a parent with. It’s gut-wrenching.”

Dr. Stevens listens intently. Periodically, he makes a note in his notebook, but mostly, he just lets me talk and cry—and I didn’t realize how much I needed this.

I swallow and reach for another tissue from the box Dr. Stevens is holding out to me before continuing. “I think maybe if she wasn’t pregnant, I would have wanted to try to work it out. I believe in love. I help other families and couples work through these issues. We said for better or for worse.” I pause, hiccupping, and use the tissue to wipe under my eyes. “Unfortunately, I don’t think the worse part included infidelity.”

Dr. Stevens makes a note in his book and then looks up at me with a reassuring smile. “It's natural to feel a sense of loss and grief after a divorce. Mourning this change is an important step in healing.”

I nod, letting out a post-cry shudder. “My therapist brain knows this. I just never thought I would be the person in this position,” I admit, looking down at my hands.

“It’s important to give yourself time to adjust. Coming here for a change of scenery is good but it’s also okay if it’s overwhelming.” He pauses. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you pick Cape May?”

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