Restoration

3. Step One

"I'm really thankful you reached out to me, James. Just from our first session, I see that there's definitely a lot to be done. I have hope for you two, though."

Ah, optimism. "Thank you. I certainly hope we can patch up our marriage."

"More than patch up, we're going to work towards you guys having a successful and thriving marriage."

"That sounds nice, but I'm not going to hold my breath." I palmed my head.

Our new marriage counselor laughed. "Ok, we'll work on that. I'll see you next week."

"Bye."

I exited out of Zoom and leaned back in my chair. Though the majority of the session had been my walking through the history and current state of our marriage, I still had a lot to think about.

The fact that you reached out to me tells me that you think your marriage is worth saving – your wife is worth remaining committed to. I want you to hold onto that part of yourself as we go through this process.

I had never thought about it that way, though it had to be true. No one was forcing me to do this.

"I love you, Patience," I muttered to myself. Such foreign words on my lips, but I would make them my mantra moving forward until they became a part of me.

With a sigh, I rose to go change for the farm. The therapist – Damond – had been kind enough to accommodate my early schedule. A glance at my phone revealed the time to be 7:30 on the dot.

Back in our bedroom, Patience was just beginning to stir. With her not fully awake, I took the opportunity to take her in. I loved the fluffy outline of her body underneath the comforter, her bonnet-ed head peeking out.

She groaned and stretched, rolling over.

I made my way to the closet and donned several layers to protect from the chilly spring air. Once done, I leaned next to the bed, facing my wife.

"Patience?"

"Mmm...?"

I smiled to myself.

"Patience, look at me."

She opened one eye, and then the other slowly.

"I'm going to the farm. I'll be back for lunch."

"Mmkk."

She closed her eyes again, and I kissed her softly on the lips.

"I love you."

I walked away before I could see the surprise that would inevitably blossom on her face. I very rarely took the time to let her know when I was heading out, let alone kissing her and telling her I loved her.

The crisp air was refreshing as I drove to my dad's farm with the windows rolled down. I lived for mornings like this – cruising through the stillness, my breath clouding in front of me. Before too long, the tell-tale lights of their house shone into view. It would be a rigorous several hours of work, but it was worth it to keep the family farm going.

xXx

Patience heard the chime of the alarm, notifying her that her husband had returned. She was still trying to piece together whether or not she had heard him correctly this morning. Those words had never crossed his lips, even when they were in the fake courting stage before she arrived to the U.S.

"Hi, Patience."

"Welcome home, James."

The burly man approached her, and she stepped back slightly. She noted an emotion – regret? – flit across his face before he leaned down to kiss her gently.

"What are we having for lunch?"

"Pasta. I-is that ok?"

James nodded silently and made his way upstairs to change. Patience watched him disappear and then set about making their plates. He was acting strangely, though not necessarily badly, but Patience was well-aware that the line between those two states was a razor-thin one.

"I had the first counseling session today," James remarked, taking the two plates on the countertop. "Let's sit in the sunroom."

Patience masked the incredulity she was feeling. James knew she loved sitting in the toasty sunroom, which is why she suspected he refused to have meals there or let her eat there if he was around – out of spite.

Once they were situated and had begun eating, James resumed.

"His name is Damond, and he's hopeful for our marriage, though he says it will take work."

Patience continued chewing slowly, not sure how to respond.

"Are you hopeful?" James asked, a hint of insecurity palpable in his tone.

Patience turned her eyes to the man beside her. Brown, piercing eyes set atop an aquiline nose and fairly full lips, which were, in turn, framed by a blond, brown, and gray beard. She used to study that face with adoration and anticipation in the months leading up to her arrival.

Now she saw the face of the man who had made her miserable for the last year and a half. The man who refused to give her a child. The man who had bowed her shoulders and quieted her voice.

A pregnant eternity of silence passed.

James watched the woman study him, deep in thought.

He looked away, back to his food.

"Well, I can't blame you," he responded simply and took a bite.

Patience silently resumed eating as well.