Christabel started therapy.
Not because she was broken.
Because she was tired of pretending she wasn't.
---
The first session was hard.
The second was harder.
The third made her want to quit.
"You're avoiding something," Dr. Reid said.
"I'm not avoiding anything."
"You're avoiding your marriage."
"My marriage is fine."
"Then why are you here?"
Christabel was quiet for a moment.
"Because I'm not happy."
---
She didn't tell Damien.
Not because she was hiding. Because she didn't know how.
Every night, she came home. Kissed Lena. Ate dinner. Went to bed.
Every night, he reached for her.
And every night, she turned away.
"You're distant," he said.
"I'm tired."
"You've been tired for weeks."
"I've been tired for years."
---
The fight started small.
A comment about dinner. A look that lasted too long. A silence that should have been filled with words.
"You're not here," Damien said.
"I'm sitting right next to you."
"Your body is. Your mind isn't."
"I'm thinking."
"About what?"
She looked at him.
"About whether I can do this anymore."
---
The room went silent.
"Do what?"
"This. Us. The marriage."
Damien's face didn't change.
But his hands tightened around his glass.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I don't know who I am anymore. I'm saying I don't know who we are. I'm saying I'm tired of pretending."
"Pretending what?"
"That I'm happy when I'm not. That I'm fine when I'm falling apart. That I love you the way I used to."
---
He set down his glass.
Walked to her.
Stood in front of her.
"You don't love me anymore?"
"I don't know."
"Christabel—"
"I don't know." Her voice cracked. "I don't know anything anymore."
---
He knelt in front of her.
Took her hands.
"Then let me help you figure it out."
"I don't know if you can."
"Why not?"
"Because you're part of the problem."
---
The words hung in the air.
Damien stood.
Walked to the window.
Stared out at the city.
"What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything."
"Then why am I part of the problem?"
"Because I've lost myself in you. In Lena. In the empire. In the cities. I don't know where I end and you begin."
"That's what love is."
"No." She shook her head. "That's what codependency is. Love is two people who are whole on their own. I'm not whole."
---
He turned to face her.
"Then let's fix it."
"I don't know how."
"Then let's find out. Together."
"What if we can't?"
He walked to her.
Kneeled again.
Took her face in his hands.
"Then we try anyway."
---
She started crying.
Not the silent tears.
The kind that came from somewhere deep.
Somewhere that had been hurting for years.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"For what?"
"For not being enough."
"You're more than enough."
"I don't feel like enough."
"You don't have to feel it. You just have to be here."
---
That night, they didn't make love.
They held each other.
And for the first time in weeks, Christabel slept.
---
The next morning, Damien called Dr. Reid.
"I need to see you."
"Alone?"
"Alone."
---
The drive to the therapist's office was quiet.
The city was gray.
The rain was falling.
Dr. Reid was waiting.
"Mr. Moreau."
"Damien."
"Damien. What brings you here?"
He sat across from her.
"My wife is unhappy."
"And you want to fix it?"
"I want to understand it."
---
Dr. Reid leaned forward.
"Has she told you why she's unhappy?"
"She's lost herself."
"In the marriage?"
"In everything. The cities. The empire. The expectations."
"And you?"
"What about me?"
"Have you lost yourself too?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know who I am without her."
---
The session lasted an hour.
Damien talked.
Dr. Reid listened.
When it was over, he walked to the car.
Christabel was waiting.
"How was it?"
"Hard."
"Did it help?"
"I don't know."
---
That night, they sat in the garden.
The rose was still blooming.
The city was dark.
"I don't want to lose you," Damien said.
"You won't."
"I don't want to lose us."
"Then let's fight for us."
"How?"
She took his hand.
"Together."