Tell Me a Lie in a Beautiful Way

"Goddamn it, Zack! Hurry up!" I called up the stairs to my husband, wondering what the hell he was doing that was taking so long.

"Calm the fuck down. I'm coming," he told me roughly, appearing at the top of the stairs looking disheveled.

"You know we've been late to every single one of these things so far, right?" I asked him, knowing my tone was bordering on one that had the potential to start a huge argument between us.

"That's because I don't wanna fuckin' go," he told me, coming down the stairs heavily.

"You think I want to go?" I asked as he walked past me and out the front door.

"Your idea," he mumbled, and I watched as he plopped into his car in the driveway and then tapped his wrist sarcastically like he was looking at a watch.

We were on our way to marriage counseling. Ever since we'd gotten out of the psychiatric ward we'd been in years before, both of us had kept up on seeing a therapist regularly just because of the fact that both of us were still pretty fucked up, even all those years later. My therapist had recently had the brilliant idea for the marriage counseling.

We'd been married for four years and together for two before that and quite honestly, we'd always fought a lot. It was usually just little things; little bickering that ended with us playfully tackling each other and getting frisky. But for some reason as time went on, things started to change. We both seemed to get more angry when we fought and less playful. We both seemed to carry the arguments on further and say worse things. It had gotten to the point where there were days when we didn't even really talk to each other at all anymore. I couldn't figure out how we'd gotten to that place. Everything had been so perfect when we'd gotten married, despite all of our individual issues and I was afraid. I knew he wasn't cheating or anything like that; mostly I was just concerned for his mental health, for both of our mental health.

Sighing, I made my way out to the car and got in. He drove us to the counselor's office in silence. I kept sneaking looks at him and was overwhelmed with how absolutely gorgeous I still found him, even when he was pouting.



"Tell me how you both met, Zack," the counselor asked him, looking at him expectantly.

"You know how we met," he spat at her, and when he looked at me I could see the venom in his eyes. I couldn't figure out why he was acting like this.

"Yes, but I'd like to hear your side," she said calmly, seemingly ignoring his attitude.

"We met in the nuthouse," he mumbled, and I looked at him, shocked. I couldn't believe he'd said that like that.

"Yes, a psychiatric help ward of a very esteemed hospital," the counselor said, and when I looked at her again I thought I could detect just a hint of annoyance on her face. "I've got to be honest with the two of you here. This whole thing isn't going to work unless both of you are at least a little bit committed to it," she said a moment later, her eyes never leaving Zack's face.

Zack seemed to think her words over for a moment and then looked at me. When our eyes connected, his were filled with an emotion that I couldn't quite read. I was about to ask him what he was thinking when he got up and walked to the door of the room.

"Well then, I guess it's not going to work," he said confidently, going out the door and closing it behind him.

Apologizing to the counselor for wasting her time, I hurried after him. I wasn't sure which way he'd gone in the hallway and when I finally found him, he was sitting underneath a big tree in the courtyard of the facility.

"What the fuck was that?!" I asked, doing my best to keep my voice steady as I tossed my purse at him and sat down beside him.

"We don't need that shit," he told me calmly, hugging my purse to his chest. There was clearly something wrong, but I knew that if I asked he wouldn't tell me so I let it drop for the moment.

"Let's go home then, asshole," I said to him, standing back up and reaching for his hand. He gave it to me and stood in front of me, smiling a little and kissing me lightly on the forehead before turning and heading towards the car, my purse still tight in his grasp.