Page 48 of The Wedding Situation Romance

I nod. There is nothing here that I haven’t heard before. But that said, I’ve seen marriages like this saved.

“Here’s what I think,” I tell her warmly. “I think people go through things that make them forget why they love someone. It’s so easy in the chaos of life when we are tired and the days are mundane to focus on the things we don’t love about a person. The way they chew food. Their hobbies. Snoring. Hygienic habits. Phrases. You get the picture. And we forget all the good we see in them at the beginning. Which is a shame because in the beginning we want nothing more than to see the good. We want love. We have hope in it.”

“He thinks I’m cheating on him,” she says flatly.

“Are you?” I ask.

“Of course not. I would never,” she says.

“Then what made him come to that conclusion?” I ask.

She bites her lip. “He makes a lot of money. Enough to afford the parts of Manhattan everyone wants to live in. He inherited our home, so if we get divorced, it’s his, not mine. And I don’t have a job. Not outside of small hobbies I have that bring in only enough to pay for wine and coffee and the occasional vacation,” she says. “In short. He believes he gives me everything. And if I’m not happy with him, I must be happy with someone else,” she says.

I turn on the couch to fully face her, my expression showing every ounce of empathy for her situation.

“Whyaren’tyou happy?” I ask her, and Ashley’s hollow eyes shift with something stormy.

“Because Mike doesn’t look at me like he used to,” she says absently. “He doesn’t look at me at all.”

I give her a moment before going on. I truly don’t have anyone else coming in today, and this couple, this woman, has a hold of my heartstrings in a way that reminds me why I do this. Her sadness, her desperation.

“Ashley,” I say gently after she’s had a second to collect herself. “I know you probably don’t believe this, but I am certain we can save your marriage.”

I know it’s a bold statement. But I also don’t believe they are as far gone as she does. “We just have to convince Mike that therapy is worth trying.”

Ashley’s snorts. “Yeah. Good luck with that,” she says, blowing her nose loudly.

“Is it the cost?” I ask with a furrowed brow. Because it suddenly occurred to me, they have money. Though it seems to be more or less controlled by him. But still.

“No,” she shakes her head. “Money doesn’t matter.”

“Then what is it?” I ask. “What’s holding him back?”

“He served me papers,” she says, and my lips part. “He already has a lawyer.”

With that, my jaw unhinges entirely. And along with it goes my professional composure.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I demand, and Ashley isn’t fazed.

“Nope,” she answers. “And from what I’ve heard, he’s one of the best in the state of New York.”

“Bullshit,” I say, getting up and heading over to a cabinet. Ashley watches me curiously as I open it up and pull out a bottle of wine.

Do I normally drink with my clients? No, but this is a first for me. And for whatever reason, it has me fuming.

“This, is for you,” I say, handing her a tall pour of merlot.

“Thank you,” she says with a tone of disbelief. Probably because she wasn’t expecting me to act this way. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised by my behavior too.

Maybe because with every word of Michael’s that she repeats, I hear it play back in my head, but in Reid’s voice.

“Alright, Ashley,” I say, sitting back down on the couch with her, wineglass in hand. “I am going to suggest something to you that I have never suggested to any client ever,” I say.

“Okay…” she answers carefully.

“I want you to lawyer up,” I tell her.

Ashley blinks. “You mean…go through with this divorce?”