Jimin’s armpit was in my face. His stinky, hairy armpit. Don’t get me wrong, normally I enjoyed Jimin’s armpit hair. Found it kind of y, actually. In a manly sort of way.

I also found his five o’clock shadow y. Something about that little scruff of black hair paired with his shaggy blonde hair got me going.

But really, this unwashed, sweaty armpit hair tickling my nose was doing absolutely nothing for me.

How did I find myself in this predicament?

It was late morning. Haru was at daycare and I had decided to relax on the bed and catch up with work. I was in the midst of editing a book; I really enjoyed the plot and working with the author. She was an older woman who had never married and traveled the world, just writing. Before I had met Jimin, I’d wanted that kind of life for myself.

“Jimin.” I grunted, pushing at him with all my strength. He’d joined me on the bed for a mid-morning nap and had somehow managed to throw half of his body on top of mine.

I couldn’t move my sound asleep husband, which hurt my self-esteem. Frankly, Jimin didn’t weigh a lot, though his body was made purely of muscle. The only fat on his body resided in his adorable chubby cheeks. But still…he wasn’t a heavy man, really.

“Jimin!” I hissed, trying to wake him without waking Sun Jae.

“Shut up.” He groaned. “I’m ing sleeping.”

“Your nasty armpit is in my face, Jimin.” I gave up trying to push him away and instead opted to scoot out from underneath him. Unluckily for me, Jimin chose this moment to rouse himself from sleep and wrapped his buff arms around me. Trapped me in his embrace and breathed his morning breath all over my face.

Which was better than the armpit, at least, but still not ideal.

“Ugh, Jimin, you stink.” I groused. “Why do you sweat in your sleep? It’s the middle of October, the heat’s not even on yet. It’s the ideal time for no sweat or stink.”

“Your attitude stinks.” He retorted into my hair.

I huffed as he moved his face near mine, going in for a kiss before getting interrupted by a yawn.

“Oh my god.” I coughed. “Jimin! Your breath.”

He into my mouth and I gagged, kind of revolted.

Jimin blinked at me as I pushed him away and burst into a fit of coughing.

“You’re hurting my feelings.” He said mildly.

I glanced at him. He pooched his lips at me and I turned away, grimacing.

“Love, you need to shower and brush your teeth before we go to marriage counseling.” I told him. “And you better hurry, cause we’re leaving in an hour.”

Yukon nosed his way into the room, looking guilty. I stared at him and he stared back with his guilty puppy eyes before darting under the bed.

“Yukon,” I said warningly, “what did you do?”

A pitiful whine answered me.

Jimin let go of me and hopped out of bed, as lithe and limber as if he’d just been dancing all morning instead of sleeping. He crouched on the floor and tried to coax Yukon out with a soothing voice, but Yukon growled in response.

Jimin and I shared a glance.

“He must have done something really bad.” Jimin muttered, shuffling a hand through his hair.

I followed him into the living room, peeking behind his broad back, too scared to see what Yukon had done. Yukon rarely acted out, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of Sun Jae. He and Haru often teamed up together and whined when Sun Jae cried or got more attention.

“Baby, don’t look.” Jimin spun around and threw his arms out. “Go back into the bedroom and don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

“Jimin, what did he do?”

“You don’t need to know.” He said gravely.

“Is it fixable?” I asked.

Jimin met my eyes. “It’s the rug.”

“The rug that my grandma made?” I wailed. “That rug?”

He nodded. “Listen, it’s just a little mess. I can clean it up and no one will be able to tell.”

I turned and walked slowly back to the bedroom. Yukon’s nose poked out from underneath the bed. I laid down on the floor and reached under the bed, ignoring his half-hearted growls.

“I forgive you, baby.” I sat up and pulled him into my lap, kissing his head. “I have two kids and a dog. One of you was bound to poop on my grandmother’s rug.”

Yukon my cheek.

We snuggled on the bed until Jimin finished cleaning. He appeared in the doorway and pointed at Yukon.

“Not nice, pup. Not nice at all.”

Yukon growled at him.

The car ride to the counseling office was a little tense. Neither of us really knew what to expect. Counseling wasn’t something my family did, in fact, it was frowned upon. Sharing family secrets with strangers? Never.

“Do we even need counseling?” Jimin asked. “We’re doing fine.”

I just looked at him.

“What?” He mumbled. “We are.”

“Yeah, for now. But as soon as we have another fight, you’ll be out of here.”

He grunted. “That’s a little unfair.”

“But true.”

“Listen, can we not fight on the way to counseling? That seems to defeat the purpose.”

“Are you taking this seriously, Jimin? Because it’s not going to work if you’re not taking it seriously.”

“I am taking it seriously.” He snapped. “Don’t get your in a bunch.”

I looked out of the window and watched the city pass us by. Jimin turned up the radio and sang along. I waited for a commercial break to talk to him.

“What if we still get divorced?” I played with the hem of my shirt. “What if…counseling doesn’t work for us?”

“I don’t want a divorce.” Jimin replied tersely, his hand gripping the steering wheel. “Stop bringing it up.”

I placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t want one, either.” I said softly. “Okay? We’re not doing this to attack each other. I’m just…I don’t know. Nervous. I want this to work, Jimin. I want this to fix us.”

“We’re not broken.” He said, shrugging off my hand. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”

“Oh my god, Jimin. Seriously? Is this really the attitude you’re going to take? That everything’s fine?”

“Everything is fine!” He cried. “Everything is always fine until you stir up the pot and make trouble.”

“That’s unfair.” I said quietly. “That’s unfair and you know it.”

“No, I don’t know it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Why did you marry me if you didn’t want me to live an idol lifestyle? Huh? You knew it was going to be like this and you were fine with it, but now suddenly you change your mind? That’s unfair.”

“I’ve given up a lot for you.” I murmured, staring down at my lap. My fingers knotted together in anxiety.

Jimin grunted.

“I have, baby. I know you don’t think so, but it’s because you don’t see it. It’s like, so ing hard to do all this without you.” My voice cracked. “I’m sorry for bringing this up right before our counseling session. Sorry.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, then turned to me, suddenly softening. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

“Ah…” I pulled at the long, loose strands of my bangs. “You don’t know that, Jimin.”

Jimin took my hand and interlaced our fingers, turning his gaze back to the road. “Do you want us to work out?”

“You know I do.” I shifted in my seat so that I faced him, knees drawn close to my chest. He rolled the window down to get a breath of fresh air. His hair blew back in the wind, revealing his sharp eyebrows and even sharper eyes. Beauty that still took my breath away.

“Me too.” Jimin replied. “So, we’re going to work out.”

“Because we want to?” I laughed quietly. “By sheer force of will?”

“Do you think I’m stubborn?” He grinned at me, crooked tooth peeking out from beneath his full upper lip.

I nodded, dimpling at the wicked gleam in his eye.

“And I think you’re probably the most stubborn person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“Rude.” I commented.

Jimin kissed my fingers, one by one. “But true. So I’m thinking, if we both want the same thing, then we’re good. Two stubborn people fighting for the same goal? We’re good to go, baby. We’ve got this marriage thing in the bag.”

I sighed and squeezed his hand. “I envy your confidence, Jimin.”

“Tell me, do you really want to live in a world where you don’t get to wake up next to my gorgeous face every morning?”

“I already live in that world, Jimin.” I reminded him.

“Ah, but at least you get some mornings.” He let go of my hand to turn into the parking lot. “Imagine a world where I don’t ever come back.”

“Shut up.”

“See? You don’t want that.” Jimin pulled into a parking space and turned the car off. The radio still played, a soft, sad Kehlani song. “And I don’t want a world where you aren’t my wife.”

My eyes fluttered close as he leaned in and kissed my forehead.

“We made those vows, baby. We made this life together. We belong to each other.” Jimin breathed, smoothing my hair back. “It’s not easy to break this kind of thing.”

“I feel fragile.” I cupped his face in my hands and drew him close until our foreheads and noses touched. “And unmoored. I don’t like it, Chim. I want us to be secure. Anchored to each other.”

“We belong to each other.” Jimin repeated.

I nodded and our noses bumped each other. Jimin let out a breathy laugh, but I started to cry. He hushed me, kissing my tears away with his gentle, soft lips.

“Why you crying, baby girl? Hmm?”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked up into his sweet brown eyes, tears clinging to my eyelashes and blurring my vision.

“Ji-Jimin?”

He placed a tiny kiss on the tip of my nose. “Yes, my love.”

“Am I still your best friend?” I asked in a small, shaky voice.

Jimin tucked my hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered over my face, caressing my cheek, my jaw, then dipping down to my neck. “You’re my bestest friend.” He whispered.

I laughed, a hiccup, tearful little laugh. “Jimin, I’m being serious.” I smiled hesitantly at him and he answered with a bright one of his own.

“I’m being serious, too.” He murmured, placing teeny tiny kisses all over my face. “Did you know you have a lot of freckles? I can’t even kiss them all.”

“Are you even listening to me?” I thumped his shoulder. “Huh? Am I being taken seriously right now?”

“So seriously.” Jimin rubbed our noses together. “So, so seriously.”

“ you.” I whispered as I leaned in and kissed him.

“Here? In the car? That’s a little indecent, babe.”

I pinched his cheek and he laughed and covered my face in kisses until I couldn’t move for giggling.

JIMIN’S POV

Counseling was weird. Awkward, even. We walked in holding hands and walked out a few inches apart, carefully keeping even our pinkies from touching.

Our counselor was around our age, mid- to late twenties. She had wild curly hair like my wife’s, but she held it back with a patterned cloth headband. She dressed in gauzy, loose clothes and wore a lot of bangles. She told us to call her Susan.

I liked her. She had a sweet, caring, eclectic vibe going on. I could see us growing comfortable enough to confess our marital woes to her listening ears.

“So, this week is going to be low-key. I just want to go over your intake form and make sure everything is in order. I can answer any questions you have and we can pinpoint what we’d like to discuss next week.”

My wife fidgeted nervously in her seat. I knew she must be feeling anxious; as such a private person, she had difficulty opening up to me. I could only imagine what it felt like to have to open up to a stranger.

“Mr. Park, you wrote down on your intake form that you would like to discuss…” she glanced down at her paper, “fidelity?”

“Please, call me Jimin.” I said politely. “And yes. We have had some,” I paused, “boundary issues.”

My wife huffed and crossed her arms, clearly displeased with the turn the conversation had taken.

I rolled my eyes. Apparently, she was under the delusion that we were only here to talk about only the problems I’d caused in our marriage, not the problems she’d caused.

Susan turned to my wife. “And you specified that you’d like to talk about career goals?”

“Yes.” She murmured, tugging the sleeves of her shirt over her hands. Sweater paws.

Susan smiled brightly at us. I struggled to smile back at her.

“I know that going to counseling can be a little nerve-wracking. Just know that these sessions are entirely up to you. I’ll never pressure you to reveal something you don’t want to. If you’re uncomfortable talking about something, we don’t need to discuss it. I’m here to help facilitate a conversation between the two of you, kind of like a referee.” She smiled again. I noticed that she had dimples, two small ones next to her lower lip. “It’s a big step, deciding to seek professional help for your marriage. You should be proud of yourselves; coming here today demonstrates that you’ve acknowledged the need for support. It’s definitely nothing to feel ashamed of, everyone needs support. And that’s what I’m here for: to support you two.”

She flushed, then looked down at her notepad. “Excuse me for rambling. I’m a little starstruck.”

I grinned and leaned forward in my chair, always ready to charm a fan. My wife sighed audibly.

To my surprise, Susan glanced up at my wife shyly. “I’m a huge fan of your writing. And the work that you did on the Choi book? I watched an interview in which she said that she couldn’t have written that book without your help. Imagine! A modern classic like that.”

My wife smiled prettily. I watched curiously as a pleased flush spread across her cheeks. I knew my wife was good at her job, but I didn’t often see adoring fans showering her with praise.

It threw me for a loop.

“Thank you.” My wife said softly, glancing down at her lap for a moment before shyly looking back up at Susan from underneath her eyelashes.

Susan stared at her for a beat too long, smile fixed radiantly in place. “I-I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t cross any professional boundaries. It’s just not every day that the author of one of my favorite books comes waltzing into a counseling session.”

I cleared my throat. “Ah…Susan, I hope this won’t cause any, ah, issues? Baby, do you feel comfortable with this?”

“Yeah, of course.” She beamed at me. “Are you okay with this?”

I faltered for a moment. A fan of my wife’s would obviously take her side, right?

“If you’re uncomfortable Mr. Park, we can definitely see about getting you another counselor. After all, this is only the initial session.” Susan assured me.

I shrugged. “No, it’s fine. Right? Just don’t pick favorites.” I winked at her and she nodded, tapping her pen against her pad.

“Of course not. As I’ve said, I’m merely here to facilitate conversation, not to cast judgments on either of you.”

We chatted a bit more about what to expect for next week, then Susan asked us a question.

“We’ve made some great headway on our goals for these sessions. It’s completely fine if we diverge from the plan, but we’ve got a good outline.”

She paused, then opened , thoughtfully tucking her hair behind her ear.

“What prompted you to come in for counseling?”

I exchanged a glance with my wife. She quirked at me, then looked back at Susan.

“Jimin and I haven’t been seeing eye-to-eye on a lot of things. And we just had a baby.”

“I’ve been traveling for work a lot.” I added.

“And some girl kissed him.”

“Some guy kissed you, too!” I retorted. My wife rolled her eyes, so I appealed to Susan. “One of my…ah, this is all confidential, right? You’re not going to share it on twitter or with your colleagues?”

“Of course. What we discuss in this room stays in this room. I believe you both read over the confidentiality agreement?”

My wife murmured an assent.

“Alright.” I took a breath, then expelled it harshly. “Okay, so, one of my members is her close friend. He’s been in love with her for, like, as long as I have. I…I knew. Found out, actually, right before our wedding. Well, we were already married.”

“Jimin.” My wife hissed. “That’s a secret.”

“Baby, she’s our counselor. We can tell her we eloped.” I grinned.

“You can share whatever you feel comfortable with.” Susan reiterated.

I raised my eyebrows at my wife. She sighed and ran a hand through her curls. “It’s a long story. Basically, Jimin and I had this dramatic breakup and then we got back together, and like a week or two later I found out I was pregnant. We eloped in Italy and never told anyone, then held a ceremonial wedding afterwards.”

“Yeah, so I told Jin about all of this, and he was like, devastated. Turned out he’d been carrying a torch for my wife since they first met.” I sighed. “I told him to confess. So he did. He wrote her this beautiful, touching letter on her birthday, but told her not to read it until after her birthday. Of course she read it.”

“Of course.” My wife said. “Of course I read it.”

“And then she cried over it.” I muttered.

“Of course I cried over it! It was very moving. And surprising. And upsetting.” She added as an afterthought. “Very upsetting.”

“So…she went over to his place the next day and they ended up making out.”

My wife sighed in exasperation. “Jimin, for heaven’s sake, we did not make out. Jin kissed me and then I left.”

Susan nodded. “Alright, so just to make sure I heard correctly. Jimin, one of your members is in love with your wife.”

I agreed.

“And he confessed to her, under your advice. They interacted, and it ended with a kiss.”

“Two kisses.” I corrected. “Two.”

Susan shuffled through some papers. “Jimin, you are interested in the topic of fidelity, correct? Can I ask a question?”

“Yes.” We both replied.

“Were there any instances of infidelity?”

My wife and I hesitated.

“Technically?” I answered uncertainly. “I mean, I was kissed, forcefully, back in December, but there was a misunderstanding and my wife thought I was cheating. That’s about the time our marriage problems started.”

“Actually, they started around the same time you decided to pursue a solo career and planned on missing your daughter’s third birthday for a stupid meeting. Oh, and you decided all that without really consulting me and also when I was newly pregnant with our second child. That’s when our marriage problems started.” My wife snapped. “Not when I caught you with the girl you lost your ity to.”

“I didn’t cheat on you!” I cried.

“I didn’t cheat on you, either!” She turned to me with flushed cheeks and furious eyes. “Not even that emotional cheating bull you always try to guilt me with. I don’t love Jin!”

“Then why did you let him put his tongue in your mouth?!”

“Let’s bring it back.” Susan said soothingly. We turned to her, both of us red-cheeked and jittery with adrenaline. “Alright. Emotions are running high. Let’s take a step back and converse constructively.”

I glared at my hands, which were innocently laying in my lap. I hated counseling, I decided. It was stupid and nothing good would come of it.

“Instead of using phrases like, ‘You make me feel like this,’ or ‘You hurt me,’ or anything accusatory like those, let’s use ‘I messages.’ For example, Jimin, you could say to your wife, ‘When you interact with Jin, I feel…’ Why don’t you try finishing that sentence?”

“When you interact with Jin, I feel like you’re being a ty person.” I grumbled, arms crossed and gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

I expected my wife to pinch or smack me, but instead she was silent. I looked over at her to see her staring at her lap, silent tears dropping onto her jeans.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” I murmured, reaching out to her. She held up a hand to block me.

“Don’t, Jimin.” She said, voice choked. “Just don’t.”

I slowly retracted my hand and placed it uselessly back into my lap. “I’m sorry.”

“I asked you to take this seriously.” She continued. “This is our marriage, okay? I know you think this is dumb, I know you’re only doing it because I want you to, but I’m literally at the end of my rope, okay, Jimin? If this doesn’t work for us, I’m not going back to a life of passive-aggressive silences and huge fights where you storm out of the apartment with Haru. Okay? This is it.”

Susan cleared . “Jimin, it is okay to feel frustrated. However, I’m really hoping that we can work on expressing that frustration in a way that your wife will be receptive to it.” She paused for a moment. “Look, I know that counseling is hard. It’s awkward and you’re telling your personal business to a stranger. But you’re here for a reason and it’s important to keep that reason in mind. Jimin?”

“Mmm.”

“Why are you here today?”

I ran my tongue over my lower lip. “Because…I’m…” I broke off and pulled on a loose string hanging off of my shirt. “I’m afraid my wife is going to leave me if I don’t do this with her.”

“Is that your only reason?” Susan prompted. “You’re here because your wife wants you to be?”

I bit my lip and hunched forward in my seat. “I like being married. It’s pretty ing cool, you know? Sorry, excuse my language. But it’s awesome, having an apartment and a couple of kids with her. It’s the best. I don’t want to lose that.”

I glanced at my wife to see her softening. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top of them, letting out a small sigh. Susan spoke to me, but I only focused on the way my wife looked at me from the corner of her eye.

“I’m here for you.” I said to her. “I want to make this work with you. You know I do. I just think…I think talking about it is bull.”

“It’s not bull.” She spoke into her jeans, an upset little pout on . “It’s called communicating, Jimin. Something you clearly don’t know how to do.”

“Like you’re so good at it.” I scoffed. “Haven’t you been keeping secrets from me? Haru told me that you ran into Jin at the store and he came home with you guys. That he put our children to bed and then hung out with you. Did you cry to him about what a ty husband and father I am? Did he murmur sympathetic words in your ear and tell you that he’d never treat you that way? That he’d give up everything for you?”

She snapped her head up to glare at me, curls bouncing against her flushed, angry face. “Yeah, actually, he did. And he asked me to run away with him.”

I threw up my arms. “Well, why don’t you just? Why don’t you just run away with him? Since he’s so perfect, so much better than me in every way? Why don’t you just leave me for Jin? I know you want to!”

“I don’t, you stupid er!” She shouted, hurling the tissue box that Susan handed to her at me.

“Why not? Since you’re so obviously unhappy with me?” I pressed. “Why don’t you leave me, like you’ve been threatening?”

“Because I love you!” She burst out.

We stared at each other for a few tense, burdensome seconds, then my wife dropped her head into her hands and sobbed.

I sat uncomfortably in my chair, glancing between my wife, Susan, and the clock. Surely more than a half hour had passed? I sighed and shifted in my seat, wondering if the three of us were going to survive the hour.

Susan passed my wife the tissues once more, who accepted them gratefully. She plucked out five tissues and dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. I knew because I counted each one. Five seemed like a waste to me. An excess of tissues for a trace amount of tears.

Sometimes, at home, when we fought and we were out of tissues, she’d blow her nose into her dirty socks. Or my dirty t-shirts. Anything she could really get her hands on from the laundry basket. I’d always found it a disgusting practice, but it was something I discovered after years of being with her.

She never used to cry enough that we’d run out of tissues, but now the sight of my wife’s tear-streaked face had become familiar.

I’d started to expect her to burst into tears.

“Do I really make you that miserable?” I asked, my voice cracking on the last word. “Why do you cry so much? You never used to cry.”

She ignored me in favor of blowing her nose.

“You have always, always pushed me away.” I continued doggedly. “Ever since we first started dating, you’ve alternated between holding me at arm’s length and hugging me close and begging me not to leave you. What happened to you? Why have you never trusted me? Why do I constantly have to prove myself to you? I feel like I never measure up. Do you…do you love me?”

She looked over at me, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “Are you really asking me that?”

“Yes.” I said softly. “Yes, I’m really asking you. Do you love me, just as I am? All of me? Even the me that is an idol, the me that leaves spontaneously, the me that is working hard for his dream? Do you love that part of me?”

“Of course I do.” She sniffled, rubbing her palm against her eye. “Jimin, I love you, baby. How can you ask that?”

“Because…because sometimes I feel like you love me conditionally. Like you love me only if I’m the me that fits into the plan you have for your life. The one that wakes up every morning to cook you breakfast, takes Haru to school, falls asleep with Sun Jae on the couch. I look into your eyes sometimes when I’m talking about work and I just see…like, betrayal. Like you think…I’m betraying you? Because I have priorities that don’t always involve you. It’s like you’re not satisfied unless the epicenter of my universe revolves around you.” I shuffled my hand through my hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t know how to say this. I think…maybe I feel, like, that you have double standards for us. Because I’m a man. You get to pursue your career, but I don’t? Because you’re worried you’re going to turn into a powerless wife. But don’t you trust me enough not to do that to you? I’m saying this solo career is only for a little while. My idol career is only for a little while. I have years and years left to give to you. Can’t I just have this now? I know it’s inconvenient, but can’t we work together on this one? I know we’ve got two kids, but there are…there are options. You can stay home! You know you can stay home, and I know you secretly want to but you won’t admit it to yourself because you feel like you’re giving up.”

She interjected with a soft negative, but I continued.

“No, I know you do. I heard you talking about it to Sun Jae. You guys were curled up in bed and you were tapping his nose and whispering that you wish you could do this every day. Just take care of him, for at least a couple of years. Why do you think I asked you if you wanted to stay home? Because I thought you wanted to. I wanted you to know that we could do it. I’m just…I want you to let go of all these expectations you have for yourself and for me, and for our family. We’re not going to be perfect and you have to deal with that.”

“I don’t expect you to be perfect.” She mumbled, once again curled back up onto the chair, this time in a protective stance.

I laughed, a small, disbelieving laugh. “Baby…it sure feels that way. Divorce? God, do you even know how that word makes me feel? Like I’m splintering apart inside. I don’t…I don’t want to be divorced from you.”

I hastily wiped my wet eyes with my shirt sleeve. “The reason I feel like you would leave me for Jin is because he would willingly give up everything for you, but we both know that I won’t.”

She in a breath. “Ah, it feels so ty to hear you admit that out loud.”

“Would you give up your career for me?” I asked her bluntly.

She stared at me wordlessly for a long moment. My heart sunk as she slowly lowered her gaze and shook her head.

“See? It’s the same. If you were dying or if I really felt like you couldn’t deal with it, I would stop being an idol. Of course I would.” I paused. “But this isn’t really tearing us apart. At least, I don’t think it is. Do you honestly believe that my solo career is tearing our marriage apart?”

“It’s your attitude about your solo career.” She said softly. “It feels like something you’re keeping from me. You barely talk about it, you disappear into your studio for hours and hours, and you go off to California for three weeks without even discussing it with me. It’s like you’re worried I’m going to take it away from you.”

I reached out to take her hand. She let me hold it and I tangled our fingers together, rubbing my thumb along the curve of her palm.

“And, in the hospital, with Sun Jae? When I got into a car accident? That was a life or death situation, and you left me, Jimin. I feel like I can’t forgive you for that. Like I can’t rely on you. It feels like your ambition has because a wedge in our relationship.”

“I have been trying since then, you know I have. I’ve apologized a million times, I don’t know what more you want me to do.”

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t…I don’t know what I want. I just want us to be okay. I don’t want to fight like this anymore. I want to feel, like, safe. And protected. And like it’s us against the world, not us against each other. I just want us to be a team again.”

I hummed and squeezed her hand.

Susan nodded, then quietly spoke. “Our time for today is coming to a close. I think you both did well today. You were very open and honest with each other. You may be feeling raw and tender right now, so I encourage you to leave this conversation for another day. Your homework, yes, Jimin, there’s homework, is to work on fighting constructively. Focus on using ‘I messages’ and try to limit the name calling. Remember, it is okay to fight, but it is useful to fight with the purpose of working towards healing, not hurting. I’d also like you to each take some steps to involve yourselves in the other’s work. Discuss it openly, even if there’s some tension. More than just ‘How was your day?’ Ask specific questions, a little more conversation each time. Baby steps, you know. Do you two have any questions?”

My wife and I murmured soft dissents. Susan smiled at us and walked us to the door. “See you both next week, same time and place.”

We said goodbye and walked out of the office, careful not to bump into each other.

Silence hung between us like a blackout curtain on our way to the car. Susan had been right, I was feeling raw and tender. Part of me wished we had never come, but another part acknowledged the relief I felt to finally say those things to my wife.

I did feel like she held me to different standards than herself. I did feel like I never measured up.

I often felt like her love was conditional.

“Hey.” She said softly, taking my hand. “Can I…can I hear the songs you’ve been working on? Yoongi told me he downloaded the demos onto your phone. We can listen to them on the car ride home, if…if you want?”

Her hesitant voice soothed my exhausted heart. “Sure, baby.” I replied quietly, twining our fingers together. “We can listen to them. And maybe…maybe I can read some of your rough draft when we get home.”

“I’d like that.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

Baby steps.