LOGINCHAPTER 5: The Decision
ARIA'S POV I drove to Jordan's house on autopilot. Didn't remember getting on the highway. Didn't remember taking the exit. Just suddenly I was there, parked crooked in her driveway, and the sobs were coming so hard I couldn't catch my breath. The porch light came on. Jordan appeared in the doorway in pajamas. Took one look at me and ran. She opened my car door. "Come on. Come inside." I couldn't move. Couldn't make my legs work. "Aria. Look at me." She crouched down. Put her hands on my face. "Breathe. Just breathe." "He has a baby," I managed. "She's seven months pregnant." "Okay. Okay." Jordan unbuckled my seatbelt. Helped me stand. Kept an arm around me as we walked to the house. "We've got you." Her spouse, Ryan, was in the living room. Saw my face and immediately grabbed car keys. "I'll take the twins to the park tomorrow. Give you space." The twins. Maya and Zoe. Three years old. I'd held them when they were hours old. Had watched Jordan build the life I'd thought I was building with Flynn. Jordan guided me to the couch. Disappeared and came back with a blanket and a box of tissues. Sat next to me and just waited. The story came out in pieces. The bank statements. Flynn's refusal to explain. Rebecca's call. Driving to Sellwood. Seeing Sienna with her pregnant belly and my husband's vase on her counter. "Seven months," I kept saying. "Seven months." Jordan's jaw was tight. Her hands kept clenching into fists. "I will help you bury his body. Just say the word." I almost laughed. Almost. "I need a lawyer, not an accomplice." "Sarah. I'll text her right now." "It's almost midnight." "She'll answer." Jordan pulled out her phone. "What are you going to do tonight?" "I can't go home." "You're staying here. That's not a question." She typed fast. "Ryan already made up the guest room. We were expecting this." "You were?" "Babe, I've known something was wrong since Monday. I just didn't know how wrong." Her phone buzzed. She read the message and showed me. *Tell Aria I'm sorry. I can see her first thing tomorrow morning. 8 AM. My office.* Tomorrow was Friday. I was supposed to be installing the new exhibit. Meeting with artists. Living my normal life. But nothing was normal anymore. I didn't sleep. Jordan stayed up with me. We sat on her couch eating ice cream we couldn't taste and watching terrible reality TV. At some point, Ryan brought down pillows. Made sure we had water. Didn't ask questions. Around three, Jordan fell asleep. I covered her with a blanket and sat there in the dark. My phone kept buzzing. Flynn calling. Texting. I didn't read any of it. Just watched the screen light up and go dark. Light up and go dark. At dawn, Ryan came downstairs. Found me still awake, still staring. "Coffee?" He asked. I nodded. He made a whole pot. Scrambled eggs that I couldn't eat. Toast that sat on the plate getting cold. Jordan woke up at seven. Looked at me. "Did you sleep at all?" "No." "Okay. Let's get you ready." She found clothes that fit me. I showered in their bathroom. Watched water circle the drain and wished I could disappear down it too. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself. Eyes swollen. Face pale. Hair wet and tangled. I looked exactly how I felt. We made it to Sarah's office by eight. She had coffee waiting. Her office smelled like leather and old books. There were photos on her desk. Her kids, maybe. A dog. "Aria." She shook my hand. Firm grip. Direct eyes. "I'm so sorry you're going through this." "I need to file for divorce." "Let's talk through your options first." "No." My voice came out harder than I meant. "I don't want options. I want out." Sarah studied me. Nodded. "Okay. Let's do this." She asked questions. I answered them. How long married. Assets. Bank accounts. Property. Did I want to try counseling first. "No," I said to that one. "He's having a baby with someone else. There's nothing to counsel." "Oregon has a ninety-day waiting period," Sarah explained. "I can file today. Process servers will deliver the papers within forty-eight hours." "Good." "Where will you be staying?" I looked at Jordan. She nodded without me having to ask. "With me," she said. "As long as she needs." "But I need to get my things," I said. "Some of them." "Want me to come with you?" Jordan asked. "Please." We left Sarah's office at nine-thirty. I had a folder full of papers I hadn't really read. Jordan drove us to the house. Flynn's car was in the driveway. "He took the day off," I said. "He never takes days off." "Want me to come in?" "No. Wait here. This won't take long." He must have heard my car because he opened the door before I reached it. He looked terrible. Same clothes from yesterday. Hair a mess. Eyes red and desperate. "Aria. Thank god. I've been calling—" "I'm here for my things." "Yout things? Honey Please. Let me explain. I love you. This isn't—" "Don't." I pushed past him. "Don't say you love me. Love doesn't look like this." "It's not what you think. Sienna isn't–" "I met her, Flynn. I saw the apartment. I saw the baby things. I saw the vase I bought you on her kitchen counter." He went pale. "You went there?" "What did you expect me to do? You wouldn't tell me the truth." "I was trying to protect‐" "I don't care." I headed for the stairs. He followed. "Where are you going?" "To pack." "Pack? Aria, wait. We can work this out." "There's nothing to work out." I grabbed a suitcase from the closet. Started pulling clothes off hangers. Underwear from drawers. My art supplies from the desk I never used. "Where will you go?" "Anywhere you're not." He stood in the doorway. Watching me pack up pieces of our life. "I can explain everything in due time. I just need you to trust me." I stopped. Looked at him. "You had three years to earn my trust. You spent Seven months destroying it. We're done." "Aria-" "I filed for divorce this morning." The words hit him like a punch. He actually stepped back. Grabbed the doorframe. "No. You can't. We.. We can fix this." he whispered. "There's nothing to fix." I zipped the suitcase. "You made your choice. Now I'm making mine." I walked past him to the bathroom. Grabbed my toothbrush. Face wash. The jasmine lotion I loved. In the mirror, I caught sight of my left hand. The ring caught the light. I twisted it off. It stuck a little. I'd worn it every day for three years. My finger felt naked without it. I walked to the dresser. Set it down carefully. Three years of promises reduced to a circle of gold I couldn't bear to touch. "Aria, please." I picked up my suitcase. My bag of art supplies. Walked past him without looking back. Jordan had the car running. I put my things in the back and got in. Through the window, I could see Flynn in the doorway. Still in yesterday's clothes. Still looking destroyed. Jordan put the car in reverse. "Ready?" I didn't look back when I closed the door. That was the first time I didn't look back. If he was going to build with a mistress, he should be free to do so but not with me in it the picture.VIVIAN’S POVSix weeks had passed since Dominic transferred out of my care. I kept telling myself I was fine. I filled his old Thursday slot with a new patient who was struggling with anxiety after losing his job. My schedule stayed full, my notes were clear and on time, work felt steady. I had thought about him only a manageable number of times. I had not opened his file once since I sent the referral. I was fine. Or at least I tried to be.I had just finished with my last patient for Tuesday and I gathered my things to go home. The office had gone quiet and everyone else had left for the day. I turned off my computer, checked that the lights in the hall were off, and walked through the waiting room toward the exit.Then I stopped dead.Dominic was sitting in the chair by the window. He stood up the moment he saw me. There was something different in the way he held himself. No careful composure trying to manage the space around him. Just a man getting to his feet because the person h
DOMINIC’S POVThree days had passed since that last session with James and his words would not leave me alone. I kept hearing him say that fear of my own feelings was not the same as healthy self awareness. I had spent the last three days walking around my penthouse and asking myself the same questions again and again. Was I really different now? Or was I just delaying the same mistakes with a different face?The doorbell rang and pulled me out of my thoughts. I opened the door and found Mia standing there with two bags of groceries in her hands.“Hi Mia… what… what are you doing here?” I asked.“I have come to cook for my brother,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.“Mia, I am fine. I can cook for myself.”“I know you can but I want to. Let me take care of you would ya?”She walked straight to the kitchen and started unpacking. I followed her and helped put things away. We moved around each other the way we used to when we were younger. For a while we worke
DOMINIC’S POV I arrived early for the fifth session with James but stayed in my car until the exact time. I had spent the entire week turning over what I said in his office last time. The words had come out before I could stop them. *She makes the room feel different when she is in it.* I had not planned to say that. I had not even planned to admit it to myself in that way. All week I kept hearing James’s response in my head. I had wanted to argue with him. I had wanted to insist that it was just another version of the same problem. But I could not make the argument hold even if I tried. I walked into his office and sat down. James gave me his usual nod and waited. He never rushed the beginning of a session. He let the silence sit until I was ready to fill it. “I have been thinking about…what I said last week,” I told him. James nodded again. “Tell me about that.” I looked at the plant by the window. The leaves were now slightly uneven on one side. “I said she makes th
DOMINIC’S POVDr. James Sterling’s office felt different from the one I had left behind. The walls had warmer colors. More books lined the shelves, a large plant sat in the corner, its leaves reaching toward the window like it had been there for years. James himself was fifty-two. He moved with the kind of stillness that came from decades of sitting with other people’s difficult truths without being shaken by them. I sat down across from him and felt the weight of starting over.This was my first session with him. I had transferred because I needed a different approach. I told him that much. I said I felt the previous work had reached a point where I needed fresh eyes on things. James nodded without pressing for more details. He simply asked me to tell him what I hoped to work on.I talked about the patterns I had been fighting. I told him about Aria and how I got obsessed. About how I had turned love into control and scared her. I used plain language because he was a stranger and str
VIVIAN’S POVI sat in my office for twenty-three minutes without moving after Dominic left. I know the exact time because I watched the clock on the wall without meaning to. The second hand moved steadily while I stayed completely still. The chair across from mine still held the shape of him. The slight indent where he always sat. I stared at that empty chair and did not let myself name what I was feeling until the last person had left the building and the hallway outside was completely quiet.Then I named it.Heartbreak.It was not the loud kind that made people cry in movies. It was just a heavy, quiet ache that settled deep in my chest and made every breath feel a little harder. I processed it the way I would guide a patient to process it. I identified the feeling, I traced its origin and I examined whether it was appropriate. The answer was no on the professional level and yes on every other level. That was the problem.I had known him for five months across fifty-minute sessions.
DOMINIC’S POVFor two weeks I had been careful. I arrived exactly on time instead of eight minutes early. I kept my answers shorter and more focused on what I was doing rather than how I was feeling. When Vivian asked how something landed with me, I gave her the practical version instead of the one that would have required me to sit in the room with her as a person instead of a therapist. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was avoidance. And I knew she had noticed it too.Last Thursday she had asked, in that calm way of hers, if something had shifted. I told her I was processing some things privately and she accepted it without pushing. That was the correct therapeutic response. It was also what made everything harder.I booked today’s session knowing what I was going to do. I arrived on time, sat in the same chair I always sat in, and waited for her to settle across from me. The room looked the same. It always looked the same. I was the one who had changed.We started the way we usua







