I still love my ex husband

The office was warm and quiet. A soft rain tapped gently on the windowpane, muffling the usual sounds of the city. June sat in the therapist’s chair, legs crossed tightly, hands clutched in her lap. She hadn’t planned to cry but the moment she walked into Dr. Marianne’s office, she’d felt her composure begin to slip.

“I... I don’t even know where to begin,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

Dr. Marianne, a calm and thoughtful woman in her fifties, simply nodded, her pen poised gently over her notepad.

“I thought time was supposed to help. That getting into something new would drown out the old.” June paused, her eyes falling to the beige rug beneath her feet. “But it hasn’t. Not really.”

“You’re talking about Larry,” Dr. Marianne said gently.

June nodded, almost ashamed. “Yes. Him.”

There was a long silence before she continued. “I thought being with Xander would help. I told myself he was kind, caring, thoughtful everything Larry never really was. And he is those things. He’s shown me a different kind of affection. The kind that feels safe. But…”

“But you still long for Larry,” Dr. Marianne finished.

Tears threatened again. June bit her lower lip to keep it together. “I hate that I do,” she said quietly. “I hate that after all the lies, the betrayal, the emotional blackmail, there’s still a part of me that aches for him. Sometimes, I catch myself remembering the good moments his laugh, the way he used to hold my hand when we drove somewhere, how fiercely he’d protect me in the early days. I know that’s not who he is anymore. Maybe that’s not who he ever truly was. But it’s what I remember.”

The silence in Dr. Marianne’s office felt louder than ever.

June sat with her arms tightly wrapped around herself, almost as if she were trying to physically hold herself together. The window blinds filtered the soft rays of morning light, illuminating her tear-strained face. Her voice trembled, not from weakness, but from the weight of honesty she could no longer suppress.

“I know I shouldn’t be saying this,” she whispered, “but I still long for Larry’s touch.”

Dr. Marianne didn’t flinch. She simply adjusted her glasses and looked at June with the calm, measured attention of someone who had heard more confessions than most people would ever imagine.

June wiped her eyes, her hands visibly shaking now. “I know I’m such a fool… and maybe even ungrateful to say this. I mean after everything he did, after how much I cried, how he doubted me, left me… after Audrey, after the lies, the betrayal I still feel it.”

“What is it that you still feel, June?” Dr. Marianne asked gently.

June paused, biting her lip. “The connection. The heat. The intimacy. Not the emotional pain, but the physical… passion. I think about that night sometimes. Not often. But when I do, it swallows me whole.”

She swallowed hard, as though the words tasted bitter. “It wasn’t just sex. It was intense. Consuming. He knew every part of me how to touch me, how to make me feel things I didn’t even know were buried inside me. I hate myself for still wanting that part of him. I keep saying I’m over him, but my body betrays me. My thoughts betray me.”

Dr. Marianne nodded slowly. “You’re describing a very real part of trauma bonding, June. Often in toxic relationships, the emotional highs and lows can create a kind of addiction to intensity especially physical intimacy. Your brain learned to associate closeness with volatility.”

June looked down at her lap, ashamed. “So what you’re saying I’m addicted to Larry?”

“I’m saying your body remembers what your heart is trying to forget,” Dr. Marianne said softly. “It doesn’t mean you want him back. It means you’re still trying to untangle who you were when you were with him.”

“I thought being with Xander would erase that,” June admitted. “And he’s… God, he’s wonderful. He’s sweet, attentive, safe. But sometimes I look at him and think, ‘Why doesn’t it feel the same?’ And then I hate myself for comparing. For even daring to say Larry’s name when I have a good man right in front of me.”

Dr. Marianne leaned forward slightly. “June, can I ask you something?”

She nodded.

“When you think of that passionate night with Larry… do you remember the morning after?”

June blinked. “The morning after?”

“Yes. Was he kind to you? Did he hold you? Was there tenderness after the passion?”

June’s eyes welled again. She shook her head slowly. “No. He was cold. Detached. Like the moment meant nothing. He didn’t even look me in the eye when he left.”

Dr. Marianne’s voice lowered with compassion. “Sometimes, we hold on to the highs of a toxic relationship because we believe that was the real part. But the truth is, the way someone treats you after the passion when the lights are off and the masks are down is who they truly are.”

June sat frozen, the weight of truth settling on her chest like a heavy blanket. Her breath hitched as she finally admitted to herself something she’d buried deep.

“That’s very human, June,” Dr. Marianne said. “It’s not uncommon for survivors of emotionally abusive relationships to romanticize the past. Your heart is wired to seek familiarity even if that familiarity wasn’t healthy.”

June exhaled slowly, eyes closing for a moment.

“I keep thinking about the baby… Audrey’s baby. I keep imagining what my life might have been if Larry hadn’t believed those lies. If he hadn’t walked away so easily. I think, deep down, I wanted him to fight for me. He never did. Not really.”

“And how does that make you feel?” the therapist asked.

“Hollow,” June said truthfully. “Like I was disposable. Like all our years together didn’t mean anything to him.”

She rubbed her temple as if trying to rub away the heaviness. “And now there’s Xander. This wonderful man who sees me, who listens, who gives without asking. And yet, part of me is terrified that I’m using him as a bandage for an old wound. I don’t want to do that to him. He deserves more than to be a rebound. But I also don’t want to lose him.”

“What do you think Xander would say if he knew how you felt?”

June hesitated. “He’d be hurt,” she admitted. “Maybe even angry. He’s trying so hard to be everything Larry wasn’t. And yet, here I am secretly comparing them.”

“June,” Dr. Marianne leaned forward, her voice warm, “healing isn’t a straight path. Your feelings are valid, no matter how conflicting they are. What matters is that you’re confronting them. That you’re not pretending. That takes courage.”

June’s eyes welled again, but this time she didn’t hold the tears back. She let them fall, quietly, without shame.

“I just want peace,” she whispered. “I want to love someone without doubt, without pain chasing me like a shadow.”

June covered her mouth with her hand as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, not of shame this time—but of quiet relief. It was the first time she said it out loud. The first time she faced the truth, even if it was ugly and complicated.

“I don’t want to ruin what I have with Xander,” she said at last. “He doesn’t deserve to be caught in this storm. But I need to be sure that I’m not trying to love someone else just to stop myself from loving the wrong man.”

Dr. Marianne nodded, scribbling something gently in her notes. “Then that’s your starting point, June. Not with Larry. Not with Xander. But with you.”