Page 44 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
But worthy of what? I already had everything that mattered. I'd just been too busy to notice.
My phone buzzed again. This time it was Lauren.
Lauren:Saw you were online. Can we talk in the morning? I have something I need to show you?
Me:Yeah. Everything okay?
Lauren:I did some digging into the Visa bill you gave me to research, and found something odd, which sent me down a rabbit hole. I want to review with you in person though. I have a file that we should go through. Nothing burning for the night, but was hoping we could get in early to review before the day gets away from us.
I stared at the message, annoyed that I would have to start my day with some sort of problem I'd probably have to solve already. I should probably get some rest since it seems like the day ahead may be a long one.
I set the phone aside and sat back on the bed, leaning against the headboard, still fully clothed.
Tomorrow I'd call the insurance company, get a list of therapists. Tomorrow I'd start the real work of earning her trust back. Tomorrow I'd begin the long process of becoming the husband she deserved instead of the one I'd been. Right after whatever Lauren needed to talk to me about.
I closed my eyes and made a promise to the woman sleeping down the hall, the woman who'd been strong enough to leave and brave enough to come back: I would earn her trust back. I would earn her. I would earn us. And even if Lauren told me thatthe company would fall apart by the end of the day, I wouldnotput Felicity on the backburner—not again—not ever again.
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My eyes opened to a dark room with the light still on in the bathroom. I turned my neck and felt the telltale crick along it that told me I had fallen asleep in a shit position. I pulled myself up to sitting and looking at the clock could see it was 4:30. I was still in yesterday's clothes, discomfort radiating from my neck down my back. Damn I was too old to fall asleep in such a dumb position. For a moment I forgot—reached for my phone to check emails, started mentally running through my calendar—then it all came rushing back.
Felicity. Guest room. Therapy.
I stood up slowly, listening for sounds from down the hall. Nothing. She was probably still asleep—yesterday had been a long day for both of us.
I showered, dressed, and walked through my morning routine quietly trying not to waking her as I walked by where she was sleeping. In the kitchen, I made coffee for two, left hers in the pot with a note: Good morning. Coffee's fresh.
I'll call about therapists today. – Love you, C
Simple. No grand declarations. No pressure. Just information and coffee.
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At the office by 6:30, I had the place mostly to myself. The quiet felt good—no distractions, no interruptions. Just me and the work I needed to do.
I pulled up our insurance website and navigated to the mental health section. It felt strange typing "couples therapy" into the search bar, but here I was.
The search results populated slowly. Pages and pages of names, credentials, specialties. Dr. Sarah Chen—Specializing in relationship counseling. Dr. Michael Rodriguez—Couples therapy, infidelity recovery, pre-marital counseling. Dr. Amanda Foster—Marriage and family therapy, trauma-informed care.
By 7:15 I had a neat list of fifteen therapists, columns lined up like lifeboats on a sinking ship.
Dr. Jennifer Walsh seemed interesting. I went to her website and found she had evening and weekend appointments available. She specializes in couples rebuilding trust after betrayal.That part caught my eye. Her bio read: "Healing doesn't happen overnight, but with commitment from both partners, even the most damaged relationships can find their way back to love."
I added her name to the top of my list and hit save.
A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. Lauren walked in carrying two coffee cups and a thick manila folder tucked under her arm.
"You're here early," she said, setting one coffee in front of me.
"Thanks. Yeah, wanted to get a head start on some things."
"Good." She settled into the chair across from my desk, clutching the folder. "How did things go last night? With Felicity?"
"She came home. We talked." I paused, not sure how much to share. "We're... figuring things out."
Lauren nodded slowly, then leaned back in her chair. "Well, speaking of figuring things out..." She held up the folder. Clearing her throat, she said, "Hold onto your hat, Caden. Your mind's about to be blown with what I found."
I looked at the folder, then back at her face. The expression there made my stomach clench.
