As a psychologist, Kate often navigates the turbulent waters of troubled relationships. But when Colin’s case takes an unexpected twist, Kate finds herself breaking protocol and stepping into uncharted territory. What secrets lie behind Colin’s fractured family, and can Kate uncover the truth?
I was waiting for a new client, feeling a familiar curiosity and readiness. The man had mentioned over the phone that he was having some problems with his wife. As a psychologist, this was something I often encountered, so it was nothing unusual.
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I glanced around my office, making sure everything was in place. The door opened, and I saw Colin, my new client. He was tall and looked a bit nervous.
“May I?” Colin asked, standing hesitantly at the door.
“Yes, of course, come in,” I said with a reassuring smile.
Colin walked in slowly, glancing around before settling on the couch opposite me. He looked nervous, his hands fidgeting in his lap.
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“So, what brings you here?” I asked, hoping to put him at ease.
“I already mentioned that I have problems with my wife,” he replied in a cold, defensive tone.
I could tell this would be a tough session. “I know, but why don’t you tell me more about it?”
Colin sighed, looking away. “She won’t let me take care of our son. She insists he’s only hers.”
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“And how does that make you feel?” I asked, watching his reaction closely.
“It hurts. He’s my son too,” Colin said, his voice tight with emotion.
I knew that hurt often masked deeper feelings, like anger. “Does it make you angry that you can’t spend time with your son?”
“No, I said it hurts,” he snapped, his frustration evident.
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Working with men often meant navigating their reluctance to admit feelings. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”
“Yes, but she ignores me. She says she regrets marrying me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Why do you think she says that?” I asked, trying to understand the root of their issues.
“I don’t know. She keeps saying that our son is only hers and she will never have more children with me. We just had a baby. It should have brought us closer,” Colin said, his voice filled with confusion and pain.
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“Oh, so you have a newborn?” I asked, understanding more about their situation.
“Yes, he’s just a month old,” Colin replied, a hint of pride in his voice.
“I see. Some women have a hard time after childbirth and fall into a depressive phase. Could it be related?” I suggested, trying to explore all possibilities.
“No, she’s fine. She takes good care of our son,” he said, shaking his head.
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“And what did you mean when you said your wife doesn’t want more children with you?” I asked, sensing a deeper issue.
“She says it’s because I’m a bad father. But she doesn’t even give me a chance to be one,” Colin said, his frustration clear.
His wife’s behavior was strange. Usually, postpartum depression causes a woman to withdraw from everyone, including the child. “I understand your feelings. Can you recall any events that led to this period in your relationship?”
“Not really. Everything was fine. Though, she has this friend, Toby. They spend a lot of time together, and at some point, I even started doubting if the child is mine,” he admitted, his voice filled with insecurity.
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“Are you against their communication?” I asked, trying to gauge his feelings.
“Of course, who would like their wife spending time with another man?” he said, his anger bubbling to the surface.
“Nowadays, friendships between men and women are quite common, and if there’s no hint of betrayal, I don’t think it’s worth stressing over,” I said, hoping to calm him.
“So, you think she’s cheating on me too?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
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“That’s not what I meant at all,” I clarified, trying to steer the conversation back to his feelings.
“I don’t know, it all seems like cheating to me,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
“Just because they communicate doesn’t mean she’s cheating,” I reiterated, but Colin seemed to ignore my words, twisting everything to fit his narrative. People often do that, living in illusions rather than facing the truth. However, I couldn’t understand what truth Colin was justifying.
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I glanced at the clock above the couch and realized our session was coming to an end. “Colin, I’m afraid we need to wrap up,” I said gently.
“But I haven’t covered everything. I thought one session would be enough,” Colin said, his frustration evident.
“Many think that, but it’s rarely true. Shall I book you for another session?” I offered, knowing he needed more time.
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“Yes, please,” he agreed, a bit of hope in his eyes.
We scheduled our next meeting for the following week, and I saw Colin out of my office. “Take care,” I said as he left. Colin just waved goodbye, his mind clearly elsewhere.
I returned to my office and sighed heavily. Some clients drained all my energy, but I loved my job, and it was part of it. So, I sat back in my chair and prepared for the next client, ready to help them navigate their own struggles.
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A week later, Colin was due to see me again. All week, his case had lingered in my mind. I had a nagging feeling that he wasn’t telling me everything.
“Come in,” I called out when Colin knocked on my door. He entered the office, moving slowly. He sat on the couch, avoiding eye contact.
“So, how have you been?” I asked, trying to gauge his mood.
“Same as before,” he replied, sighing. “She hardly talks to me. But she was very kind when Toby, that friend I mentioned, came over.”
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“Yes, I remember. How do you feel about that?” I asked, watching his face.
“I want to punch him,” Colin said, clenching his fists.
Anger can be useful if managed well, but I wasn’t sure Colin could handle it. “What does your wife say about it?” I asked, trying to understand more.
She says they’re just friends. But who calls just a friend to be at the birth?” he said, his voice rising
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This was interesting. “Can you tell me more about that?” I asked, leaning forward.
“My wife went into labor, but I couldn’t take her to the hospital because my mother had an accident, and I was going to pick her up from the hospital. It was nothing serious, but she was shaken. So I told my wife to call my sister, who lives 20-25 minutes away, to take her to the hospital.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but didn’t your wife also need to go to the hospital? Why didn’t you take her and then go together to your mother?” I asked, puzzled.
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“Because my mother lives in a neighboring town, and the hospital was there too,” Colin explained, a bit irritated.
“I see. Please continue,” I urged him gently.
“Instead of calling my sister, she called Toby because he supposedly lives closer,” Colin continued, his jaw tightening.
“And that’s why he was at the birth?” I asked, trying to piece it together.
“Yes,” Colin confirmed, his eyes flashing with anger.
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“How did you find out about it?” I asked.
“My sister also came to the hospital and recorded a video for me. I saw my wife holding Toby’s hand during contractions. When I brought my mother home, I asked my sister to FaceTime me. I saw Toby comforting my wife, doing everything a husband should do,” Colin said, his voice trembling.
“Why didn’t you go to the birth after taking your mother home?” I asked, sensing there was more to the story.
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“My mother said she felt unwell and asked me to stay,” Colin admitted, looking down.
So the mother comes first. That’s always a problem, I thought. When men put their mothers first, the marriage won’t last long. “And you decided to stay with her?” I asked, my tone neutral.
“Yes, and when I came the next day and visited my wife, she wouldn’t even let me hold our son. She said I didn’t deserve it,” Colin said, his voice cracking.
“How did you react?” I asked, giving him space to express his feelings.
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“I called her a cheater for having another man at our son’s birth,” Colin said, tears forming in his eyes.
“Do you think that was a good idea?” I asked softly.
“I don’t know, but it’s the truth. And she humiliated me in front of our relatives by saying I didn’t deserve to hold our son because I didn’t take her to the hospital. I’ve apologized a thousand times, but she still won’t let me near our son,” Colin said, his voice filled with despair.
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I nodded, letting Colin vent his frustrations. “I did everything for her, and she does this to me. She could have just called my sister, not Toby. Do you understand why I think she’s cheating on me? And I think that’s why she won’t let me take care of our son, because he’s not really mine,” Colin finished, his shoulders slumping.
I sat back, thinking about what Colin had shared. His pain was real, but his perception might be clouded by his anger and jealousy.
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I still felt he wasn’t telling me everything. We discussed the situation again, but I still couldn’t understand why his wife called another man to the birth. Maybe it was some form of revenge for Colin not coming.
After our session ended, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. For the first time in my career, I decided to break protocol. I left work, got in my car, and twenty minutes later, I stood in front of Colin’s house.
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I felt nervous and unsure, knowing this was unprofessional. But I also knew I had to talk to his wife to get a better understanding.
I knocked on the door, and after a moment, a tired woman with a baby in her arms opened it. She looked at me, puzzled.
“Excuse me, are you Colin’s wife?” I asked gently.
“Yes, I’m Emily,” she replied, her brow furrowing.
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“Nice to meet you. My name is Kate. I’m Colin’s psychologist, and I’d like to talk to you if you don’t mind,” I said, trying to put her at ease.
“Alright,” Emily replied, still looking confused. She led me to the living room, and we sat on the couch. The room was cozy, cluttered with baby items.
“I don’t want to beat around the bush, so I’ll get straight to the point. Colin mentioned that you won’t let him take care of your son,” I said, watching her reaction.
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“Well, I have my reasons. I don’t trust him, and I can’t trust him with my son,” Emily replied firmly.
“Is it because he didn’t come to the birth?” I asked, wanting to understand her perspective.
“Yes, even though I told him how important it was for me. Instead, he wanted his sister, who hates me and always belittles me, to be there. I didn’t want her there in such a vulnerable moment, but she came anyway,” Emily said, her voice shaking with emotion.
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This information changed everything. “I understand you, but maybe you could forgive him? I can suggest a family therapy session. After all, he wasn’t just sitting at home; he was helping his mother, who had an accident.”
Emily looked at me sharply. “Is that what he told you? He was helping his ex-girlfriend move because she was relocating.”
Oh my God, what a nightmare, I thought. This was why I decided to talk to Emily; I knew Colin wasn’t telling me everything. “Colin also complained that your friend was there,” I said, trying to remain neutral.
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“Toby, yes. We’ve been friends since third grade, and there’s never been anything romantic between us, but I trust him. That’s why I asked him to take me. Besides, he lives closer than Colin’s sister,” Emily explained.
“Have you tried talking to Colin about this?” I asked, feeling the tension in the room.
“I tried, but he doesn’t listen. He says he’s apologized a hundred times for not being at the birth. But he did it just to hear me say I’m not angry. I can’t trust my child to someone who doesn’t care about me. How can I know he cares about our son?” Emily said, tears welling up in her eyes.
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“Have you considered leaving?” I asked, sensing her desperation.
“I have, but I don’t have a job or money. I’m financially dependent on Colin,” Emily admitted, looking down.
“Did you know his sister was on FaceTime with Colin the whole time you were in labor?” I asked, feeling the need to share this piece of information.
“What? No, that’s horrible. I didn’t even notice her,” Emily said, her face paling.
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“Emily, if you really want to leave him, I can help you,” I said, offering her a lifeline.
“Really?” she asked, her eyes widening with hope.
“Yes, you can’t raise a child in such conditions,” I said firmly.
Half an hour later, Emily and her son’s belongings were in my car. I was glad I had come to see her and heard her side. I hoped I could help them find a better path.
The drive back to my office was quiet, but I felt a sense of purpose. This was why I became a psychologist, to help people like Emily find the strength to change their lives.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: One evening, I agreed to look after my best friend’s son, and that night changed my life forever. What I discovered made me see my surroundings in a completely different light. How can I now cope with the revelations that have shattered my trust in those closest to me? Read the full story here.
My Stepmother Wore My Late Mom’s Necklace at Her Wedding without My Permission – I Was Enraged & Taught Her a Lesson
When my stepmother stole my late Mom’s necklace and wore it at her wedding without my consent, I was shattered. Furious, I did something that left everyone gasping.
I’m Olive, 23. This isn’t a sob story, but it’s about a necklace. My late Mom’s necklace, the only thing left of her. I lost her to cancer when I was 19. She was my rock, my confidante, my everything.
Dad introduced his new fiancée, Magdalene, who immediately coveted Mom’s necklace. “Olive, honey,” Dad started, “Magdalene really admires your mother’s necklace. She says it would look perfect with her wedding dress.” I was furious. “Dad, that necklace is everything to me. It’s Mom’s.” But he insisted, and I had to hide it.
On their wedding day, I stayed home and checked on the necklace, only to find it gone. I knew who had taken it. I called Magdalene. “You took it,” I accused her. “How dare you take my Mom’s necklace without my permission?” She brushed me off, saying she’d return it after the honeymoon.
I called the cops. At the wedding, they retrieved the necklace from Magdalene, causing chaos. Dad and Magdalene were furious. “You ruined our wedding!” she screamed. Dad added, “That was petty and crazy, Olive. You humiliated us!”
Heartbroken but resolute, I moved out, taking Mom’s memories and her necklace with me. Though the pain lingered, I emerged stronger, holding on to the love and memories of my Mom.
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