The therapist and the couple

This is a true story, but the names have been changed to protect the client who shared it with me. I did write it in first person, but it is “her” story, exactly as she told it to me. I must say, parts are sad and horrible – but I think you might smile at the outcome.
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Times had been difficult. For years the bridge between me and my husband was growing. I had small children and wanted to make the union work, but I think I knew within my heart that the day of confrontation was nearing.

I found out via a good friend that he’d been cheating on me. I knew he’d been drinking too much, and wasn’t always working when he was supposed to have been, but I didn’t think he would cheat on me.

My hormones were always raging. I would have dropped whatever I was doing if he’d have said, “Come on honey…..” He was older than me by 10 years so I thought perhaps he’d passed the insatiable sexual drive most men sport for so many years.

The worst of it was he’d been driving to a job “supposedly”, and he picked up a hitchhiker on the road. He stopped at a bar and they drank until they fell into some motel’s bed. To make it worse she was on parole. She’d been in prison for murder – and was still under a pending decision about whether she would remain free or not.

The affair had been going on under my nose for a few months. You just never know what is to come in life. I had just lost about thirty pounds and felt great, and she was about 50 pounds heavier than me. Go figure.

“I want a divorce.” I said, and asked him to leave. He agreed. Albert and I went round and round and because of the children. We decided to go to marriage counseling to try to heal our wounds. He promised he would stop seeing the other woman.

We found a highly recommended shrink who was also a sex therapist. After the initial meeting we agreed we would drive an hour to his office,three times a week, trying to mend our broken marriage and my broken heart.

I knew we had grown apart, but I thought we were friends. A friend would never do this.

Therapy was expensive. The therapist counseled us together and also individually. I thought things were going fairly well, though in my head I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind that I had been cheated of having a faithful husband. I hoped we could make it. At least for the children’s sakes.

I was still bursting with unresolved sexual desires, and was still not having sex with Albert. I couldn’t understand why. I thought perhaps we had to have more counseling for him to reconcile to closeness again, though I was willing to try. Honestly, I was really in need of affection and some good sex. It had been several months now.

Perhaps we would have been able to work it out except for one tiny detail. I heard through the small town grapevine that Albert hadn’t stop seeing the convicted murdering pig! I confronted him as calmly as I could and told him I’d found out. I yelled to him “You can’t have your wife and your girlfriend too. You can’t keep lying. I’m done.” He knew he’d screwed up again and left without much fanfare. He knew he had blown it and was afraid if he fought me I would take the children away permanently.

I felt as if things would never be good again, and though I thought I was handling it well in front of the children, I realized many years later little children hear and see everything. They are wise beyond their years, and whatever you do remains in their little heads and hearts for a lifetime.

I told Albert that just because we split up didn’t mean I was through needing counseling. I really was high strung, upset and in need of someone to try to help me. After all, now I was single again, but this time with three children and no real career. I needed something pretty potent to pull me out of this mental state! I wasn’t kidding. I felt like I was going to have a breakdown and knew I had three children that really needed me during this time.

Guilt guided him to offer to pay for continuing counseling sessions. I thanked him and agreed it would help. It really did help!

I continued to see the therapist, Bill. I stayed longer at the sessions than scheduled, and learned a bit about what therapists are NOT supposed to do!

Bill and I somehow passed protocol and began a torrid affair. What a delicious secret revenge. He was a sex therapist too so I got what I so desired at least three times a week, and I mean I GOT IT GOOD! Albert paid not only the sessions, but for a babysitter, and gas to and from his office as well.

I pocketed all the money as Bill wouldn’t take a dime. He would take me out to a wonderful dinner and then we’d go to a fine hotel and have drinks and laugh and play. I found out that this sex therapist knew his business. I also got free counseling on top of it. How therapeutic was that! The best part was Albert never knew and it went on for months – just like his affair.

Sweet!

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