Chapter 14 - Aaron Asked Me for a Marriage Without His Mother in It
Aaron and I had been separated for nine months when he asked to meet.
He was living in a two-bedroom apartment near his office.
Margaret was not paying the rent.
That detail would once have sounded ridiculous.
Now it mattered.
He came to my house.
Waited outside until I invited him in.
Another small thing.
We sat at the kitchen table.
“How’s Caleb?”
“You saw him yesterday.”
“I know.”
“He’s good.”
Aaron smiled.
Then looked around.
“This place fits you.”
“It does.”
Silence.
Finally:
“I want to ask if there’s any chance for us.”
I had expected it.
Still difficult.
“You sold our house behind my back.”
“I know.”
“You lied for five months.”
“I know.”
“You let your mother control me.”
“I know.”
“You knew she kept my keys.”
His face tightened.
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
He looked at me.
“Because every time I challenged Mom, I felt like the sixteen-year-old kid who needed her to keep everything from collapsing.”
There.
Not an excuse.
A real answer.
“I’m working on that.”
“I know.”
He had been in individual therapy.
He had separated his business finances completely from Margaret.
He stopped allowing her to call employees.
He refused two offers of money from her.
He disclosed his company numbers monthly to an independent adviser.
All good.
None purchased me.
Then he said:
“I don’t want to go back to our old marriage.”
I looked at him.
“What do you want?”
“One where you know when I’m scared.”
That caught me.
“And?”
“One where I tell you the bad number before I try to fix it.”
“And your mother?”
“She gets to be my mother.”
“Not our third spouse.”
A faint smile.
“Exactly.”
Then he asked:
“Would you ever consider counseling?”
I thought about it.
“We already tried two sessions months ago.”
“I wasn’t honest then.”
“No.”
“I am now.”
“Maybe.”
His eyes lifted.
“Maybe?”
“Counseling. Not moving back.”
“I understand.”
“And if we do it, there is no deadline.”
“Okay.”
“No ‘I’ve done everything.’”
He almost laughed.
“Okay.”
“No using Caleb to make me feel guilty.”
“I won’t.”
Then he said the sentence I needed most.
“If you never take me back, I still need to become the man who doesn’t do this again.”
That sounded different.
Not like a pitch.
Like responsibility.
So I agreed to one counseling appointment.
Not reconciliation.
May you like
One appointment.
For the first time, that felt enough.
