Trystan tried to keep her leg from bouncing as she and Derek sat inside Dr. Robert's, their couples therapist, office. Mouth tight and arms crossed, she was settled on the navy couch with scratchy fabric and doing her best not to interrupt Derek as Dr. Robert's had instructed her not to.
"Couples must allow each other to speak, even if there are disagreements," she had told her when Trystan objected an asinine point Derek was making. She thought going to therapy would be the help they needed to get their relationship on track, but in the two sessions they had had, she felt worse.
"Trystan is a good woman, I know that, and I trust her," Derek continued on, using his age-old tactic of complimenting her to soften an impending insult. "But sometimes, I can't help but to think she speaks to other men when I'm not around."
"That's ridiculous," Trystan broke the rule and spoke out. Him having the audacity to accuse her of infidelity was enough to make her blood boil. "I don't speak to other men on anything past a professional-level."
"Really?" Derek looked at her with a pointed glare. "Because you sure enough talk to Peter passed a "professional" level."
Dr. Roberts looked between them both, her eyes squinting behind rectangular spectacles. "Peter? Who's Peter?"
Trystan felt herself become balmy though she felt she had no reason for it. "Peter is a friend of mine," she explained. "He and my company are working together on a project."
Dr. Robert's eyes switched to Derek. "Why do you assume there's anything unprofessional going on between he and Trystan?"
Trystan knew why, and she wanted to answer her, knowing Derek would edify it in such a way that made her appear guilty.
It had happened a couple nights before, and then a few before then, when Derek came home from work and found Trystan in the kitchen and in the bedroom laughing on the phone. Both times had been with Peter.
"When I catch her on the phone, she's like a deer caught in headlights and ends the call like she's got something to hide," Derek said, and Trystan could not allege him of lying. She did tell Peter she had to go and hung up swiftly when Derek would arrive, but that was only because she felt she could not speak to other men in a friendly way with Derek around.
She told Dr. Robert's this, and she asked her, "Did you and this Peter fellow ever have a romantic relationship in the past?"
It was a shocking question, but not unfair. "No," Trystan answered automatically, and she could not tell what Derek's expression was in her peripheral. "We've always been just friends." She looked at her partner then, reiterating for the umpteenth time that there was nothing going on between she and Peter, as there honestly was not.
Ever since the morning he had spent with she and Raina, they would speak on the phone to discuss business affiliations, and both naturally and unintentionally, would their conversations trail off into things unrelated to their work. Derek just happened to walk in on the moments where Trystan found something that Peter said funny, and made up his mind to believe they were doing something immoral.
"I can't have friends?" she asked Derek, and he sighed, aggravated.
"That's not what I'm saying, Trys," he ensured. "It's just that since we've been together, you haven't talked on the phone with another man like that, giggling and probably telling him things you don't even talk about with me. What if I were doing that with another woman?"
You probably do, Trystan wanted to say, but kept the thought to herself. She knew that if she continuously walked in on Derek doing the same thing, she would think something was going on, too, but she felt there was nothing she could do to persuade him that she and Peter's relationship was nothing but innocent unless she stopped talking to him all together, which she did not plan on doing. Their conversations were harmless.
"Derek, do you wish that Trystan spoke to you about things the way she talks about them with Peter?"
"Every time I try, he hardly listens," Trystan interrupted, and Dr. Robert's gave her a curt look.
"Trystan, please, allow him to answer."
"Of course I want her to talk to me; about anything," Derek responded as if the question had been asinine. "We should be able to talk about anything, but I feel like she holds a lot back from me."
Dr. Robert's line of vision trailed to Trystan. "And does that happen because you believe he hardly listens?"
Trystan nodded. "Every time I wanna talk about my day or how I'm feeling, he's either too tired or still has work to do when he gets home. I understand we have conflicting time schedules and a lot of times he does really just wanna rest, but having a conversation shouldn't feel like a damn battle."
"And so you speak to Peter to compensate that?" With her hands folded and face placid, Dr. Robert's asked the question as if it bore no weight, and though it was not meant to be, it came off as accusatory, and yet again, Trystan felt the need to defend herself.
"No!" she blurted without really thinking about it. "I just . . . Peter has always been a good friend of mine and we enjoy each other's company. I know that may sound inappropriate, but it's the truth. Nothing is going on between us."
"Trystan, do you know what an 'emotional affair' is?" Dr. Robert's asked.
Aghast, Trystan replied, "Yes, and no, I'm not having an emotional or any kind of affair with him. Why are you assuming that?"
Dr. Robert's leaned forward. "Trystan, these sessions aren't to place blame or be denunciatory; we're all speaking these things through in order to help you both understand how you act within your relationship. Please, I ask that you try not to take offense, but to listen."
Trystan sat back against the couch, feeling defeated and unheard.
"Now, as humans, it's completely natural to seek love, trust, and validation. It can build happiness and improve overall quality of life. However, when one doesn't feel they are receiving that in one place, they may search for it in another, whether they recognize it or not." She offered her a sympathetic look.
"And that's not to say you're experiencing one, at least not yet. I want to assist and stopping it from getting that point. Many of these situations start as only friendships, but grow into something deeper when you find something within it you aren't getting at home."
Trystan said nothing, and Dr. Robert's turned to her partner. "And Derek, while your suspicions are validated, that doesn't mean Trystan's at fault or what she's saying doesn't hold any value. There's a reason she doesn't feel comfortable or vulnerable around you, and being in a relationship, it's important to make sure your partner is satisfied being in the same space."
She looked at them both, hoping her words had been received. "Now, I want you both to try a new exercise this upcoming week. Derek, I remember you mentioning that your sex lives are still in tact, but that does not mean there's any physical intimacy."
Trystan was glad she had been the one to say it and not herself. Sex was only sex with Derek. She did not feel and had not felt a connection with sex in a long time.
"And in your case," Dr. Robert's continued, "you both need to work on building mental intimacy before going on to seek anything of physicality. For the next seven days, I don't want you either of you having sex together. The only physical touching allowed is hand-holding, cuddling, and hugging. Physical intimacy is not limited to sexual relations. I want you both to feel comfortable and safe from just an embrace.
"Also, for at least one hour every night, I want you both to spend time together, whether it's going out to dinner, watching a movie, going for a walk in the park. Anything where you both are sharing each others' space and free to talk to one another. In these conversations, I want you both to speak on what makes you both happy, frightened, but not angry. Keep negative conversation out of the relationship.
"While it's normal to be angry, I want you both to see that there can be discourses that don't lead you to feeling that way. Derek, I understand your work often keeps you out late, but if you can help it, try coming home early enough for a few days where you can enjoy dinner with Trystan and Raina. Family time is just as important. And Trystan?"
She stiffened at her name.
"For the rest of the week, no talking to or texting Peter. I understand you enjoy the conversations, but since you claim most of it is work-related, lessen any forms of communication to business e-mails."
An entire week without speaking to Peter? A month ago, that would not have been a problem in the least, but now, Trystan grew sickened at the thought. She and Peter's phone calls often got her through the week, she could admit to herself. How would she tell him she had been disallowed speaking to him?
Trystan left Dr. Robert's office with Derek beside her, both silent.
The meetings were not going as she assumed they would—she had suggested them to Derek so he could become aware of his faults within their relationship, but she was walking away with qualms of her own stance.
It was not out of reprisal toward Derek that she had begun speaking to Peter. It honestly had very little to do with Derek as far as she was concerned. When work discourse faded away, Peter would inquire about Raina, and that would lead Trystan telling him all about an antic she had done that day. Then, she would ask about Roger, Neal, and even Peter's puppy, and he would tell her the most outrageous things that had her laughing.
It had felt good to laugh with a friend, forgetting responsibilities even if only for a couple of minutes, and that was why she continued to call him. Every other day, whether on her way home from Sovereignty or after she laid Raina down to sleep, her thumb found his name in her phone, or his name lit up against her screen.
She hoped Derek had understood that in the therapy session, because she was unsure if she would be able to tell him directly that in the month of reconnecting with Peter, she would much rather have conversations with him than he.
They were just as quiet in Derek's car on their way home. Trystan, her sunglasses perched on the edge of her nose, arms crossed, focused her line of vision out of the window. She knew before long that Derek would be pushed to say something, as he hated awkward silences, but she wanted him to know that she was not happy with him or the circumstance.
She reached down to rummage inside her purse, found what she was looking for, swallowed a pill dry, and then settled back into her seat.
Derek saw the motion, and used that as an opportunity to finally talk. "Trys, you don't need to keep taking those."
"If I didn't have to, I wouldn't," Trystan replied promptly, and he sighed as he halted at a red light.
"Look, I didn't mean to throw you under the bus back there," he insisted, "but that's been bothering me for the past couple of weeks and I know you know it has. Why do you keep doing it?"
"I have friends outside of you, Derek," she responded, catching that he was referring to her conversations with Peter.
"If he's just a friend, then why the hell do you always feel the need to hide that from me?"
Trystan cut her eyes at him, and though she wanted to raise her voice, she did not. Either too tired or too annoyed to indulge him that much. "Because I know how you get with me having male friends."
"I don't have a problem with you having a guy friends; it's the fact that you feel it needs to be a secret, like you've got something to hide."
"Derek, do I ever ask about any female friends you have or question why you come home late so often?"
"What?"
"Just answer the question, Derek."
"No, but that–,"
"Right, and so I'd like the same respect from you. I don't ask because I trust you, and so when I tell you that nothing is going on between me and Peter, I want the same from you. I've never given you a reason to distrust me, and since you can't say the same, you don't have the right to keep questioning me about it."
Her eyes lingered along his face, watching as it distorted at the truth in her words, recalling the memories of him sneaking out to a strawberry blonde when they were still together before coming home one night and breaking it off with Trystan to be with her.
Derek said nothing, and Trystan returned her eyes before her. "We're just friends," she added quietly.
" . . . Hey, Trystan. Just calling to check up on you. We haven's spoken much all week and I just wanted to see if you were okay. Call me when you can."
"You do check-ups with Trystan?"
Peter nearly jumped at the sound of a separate voice in his office. He turned swiftly on his heel and saw Roger at his door, laptop tucked under his arm and headphones embroidering his neck.
"How the hell did you get up here?" Peter questioned with a roughened brow. He had not gotten a call from a secretary warning him, and SoulWork was particularly big on security after an incident that had happened before Peter had become apart of the establishment. A lot could go wrong with a bad deal and a lot of money.
Roger shrugged and walked over toward Peter's black, leather couch. "When one of the cute secretaries knows you by name and you promise her dinner, many things are possible."
Dammit, Amanda, Peter thought, knowing it had to have been none other than the young brunette secretary who had had her eye on Roger ever since Peter had invited him into his office a year ago. "You promised her dinner? You're fucking engaged."
Roger snorted and quipped, "That never stopped you."
Peter gave him a smug look and fixed his mouth to tell him to go to hell.
"And I'm not actually going to dinner with her," Roger assured. "I just told her that because I knew that would get her to let me up here. I didn't even set a date or place."
"So what the hell do you expect to happen the next time you wanna come up here unannounced and she's at her desk?"
Roger looked thoughtful as he plopped onto the couch. "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. And don't duck my question." He set his laptop onto the coffee table. "You and Trystan talk now? Like on a regular basis?"
To stall and to think up a good answer that Roger would not take out of context, Peter pretended to fix the cuff links of his suit jacket. Shaking the sleeves straight, he turned to his younger friend. "We've been talking a lot about this business with Bennett-Price, and since I can't always fly out to Georgia because of work here, we speak on the phone."
Roger's face hardly shifted as he replied, "That didn't sound like a "business" call. And why can't she fly out here sometime?"
"I can't help what it sounded like to you and she's got a kid, Rog."
"Babysitters and nannies and shit exist. Plus, doesn't she have a father? He could watch her."
Peter did not want to go into why the latter option, or even the first one, were not up for grabs. Trystan did not want to leave out of state without Raina, nor did she want to bring her on business. Derek was hardly home, so watching her for a day or two would be a hassle, or at least that was the case in Trystan's words.
"It's just easier to stay there," Peter concluded. "And why the hell are you here?"
Roger feigned offense. "I can't visit my good friend sometimes?"
Peter offered a smug look. "It's Thursday afternoon and I'm not on break. What do you want?"
"Geez, you're turning into old Peter again," Roger mumbled, insinuating toward Peter's ungenerous character from years before as he opened up his laptop and began typing.
"Firstly, I wanted to remind you of Neal's dinner party at Franco's tonight."
Peter threw back his head. "Shit, I forgot about that. Who's gonna be there?"
"I figured you would," Roger responded without taking his eyes off of the screen. "And just the regular group, including Angelique and if you wanna bring along Christine."
"We do not date," Peter reminded for the umpteenth time.
"Oh, that's right." Roger mockingly slapped his palm against his forehead. "I forgot you were the lonely old bastard. Get ready to fifth-wheel tonight then."
Peter thought about how out-of-place relationship-wise he would feel and contemplated giving Christine a call, but then thought better of it. She had not spoken to him lengthily since that morning at his apartment, and though he thought asking her to join him and his friends for dinner would help quell the tension between them both, for some reason, Peter did not want to.
"Aren't I always?" he asked Roger before inquiring what he was trying to pull up on his laptop.
"What color do you think gives off the "royalty" vibe more; dijon or garnet?" He turned the device so the screen faced Peter. It displayed chair draperies of either color. "Em and I wanna do some "King and Queen" shit for the wedding."
"Are you fucking . . . this is what you invaded my office for? I thought the brides were in charge of that stuff."
"I thought so, too, but she wants me to be involved because it's "my day, too." I'm honestly just waiting for the honeymoon, but I'll indulge her; it'll give me some perks," Roger hinted and Peter rolled his eyes. "So which is it? I need to know by tonight or Em's gonna put me through the wringer."
Peter shrugged impatiently. "I don't know, man, whatever the fuck 'dijon' is."
Roger considered it. "I'm more of a garnet man myself, but Em's favorite color is yellow, so I can work with that. Oh, and P?"
Peter cocked a brow.
"Not to be sappy and shit, but you need to get laid by someone you actually care about, because if you turn back into the uptight bitch you used to be, I'm gonna push you off a cliff."
Franco's was one of Neal's favorite restaurants, and the only one he ever went to if it were his idea to go out to eat. Because of that, Peter knew his way there like the back of his hand, and arrived promptly without the hassle of Los Angeles' traffic.
He entered the restaurant, meager to the rich and exquisite to the pauperized, and found his friends already seated at a table near the decorative fireplace.
"How do you always manage to be the last one to everything?" Neal joked as Peter took a seat at the end of the table, the others occupied with people who actually had partners accordingly.
"It was a late night! Had a bunch of work to catch up on." Peter claimed although the truth was that he crashed on his couch in the office and awakened just before he would be considered as being late getting there. One moment he was answering business inquiries and the next he could hear a janitor whistling outside his door as he did his nightly clean up.
"Sure," Neal fostered ad then beckoned over the waitress to take their drink orders.
Peter had managed to nab the seat closest to Angelique, who did not hesitate to strike up a conversation with him. The last time they had spoken, Peter had been a bit on edge. Speaking to Trystan's best friend under the circumstances had been tough, but now, Angelique regarded him as she would anyone else—offering a greeting and asking how he had been since they had last seen each other.
"I called Tree some time ago, and she said you two may be working together in the future?" she inquired as she took a sip of her white wine.
Peter nodded. "Possibly."
"Why possibly?"
"The guy who's the head of the company has us both a bit suspicious. We don't know if his motives are as genuine as he claims."
Angelique rose a brow and smirked. "So I'm guessing that if you two don't end up working together that it'll go back to no talking?"
Peter chuckled lightly and assured, "Nah. Trystan and I have come to good terms this past month. Even if we don't, I think this time around, we'll still keep in touch."
"That's good," Angelique noted. "Tree could use you as a friend."
Peter's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Her own rose. "Exactly that."
When Peter got home, stuffed full from dinner and two glasses of champagne, he released Jewel from her crate and she happily made her way up the stairs to sleep at the side of his bed. He was ready to retire himself, loosening his tie and setting his keys on the kitchen counter.
But then his phone buzzed. He nearly opted to get back to whomever had messaged him in the morning, too worn to be concerned about anything more for work, but his curiosity got the best of him, so he dug about his pocket to retrieve the device and saw that he had gotten two texts--one from Christine, and the other from Trystan.
He opened Trystan's first, having not heard from her in what felt like a long time, and took a moment to read.
Hey Bruno. Sorry it's so late and that I haven't been able to talk much this week—a lot going on. But everything is fine. Raina's doing well and so am I. I don't know if you heard, but Robert's flying back out here to speak with us as Sovereignty, for whatever reason on a Saturday. He didn't ask for you, but I want you here with us. Would you be able to make it?
He hurriedly typed that he would be of attendance, both slightly insulted and puzzled at why Robert had not requested his presence. However, those feelings were lessened as he brightened at the chance of seeing her again and soon.
He then replied to Christine's message, asking if they could make up over a dinner and drinks at her place on the same day. Once again, he did not feel the titillation he normally would have at her request for sex, but he responded nonetheless:
Make it Friday night.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Thanks for reading! ^_^