The New Husband(33)
Nina didn’t like being pushed into anything, but if she were being honest with herself, she’d have to admit that Simon had planted a seed of sorts. As she contemplated the idea, tried to picture it—could she? would she?—Nina had to admit (if only to herself) that she liked the thought of coupling a dramatic change with her new start in life.
Yes, she suddenly found herself liking the idea very much. (I’ll show you “fine”!) But she wouldn’t commit to it under duress, so she’d talk it over with her stylist first. And she certainly wouldn’t give Simon the satisfaction of mirroring his suggestion exactly.
For whatever reason—pride maybe, or unwillingness to let a man subjugate her (even with good intentions)—Nina had to call her own shots.
CHAPTER 18
It was T-minus one and counting until J-Day, Job Day, the start of her new life, and Nina had come eager for a session with Dr. Wilcox. But first Dr. Wilcox had to process the new Nina, because the person who entered the therapist’s office did not look like the same woman of two weeks ago. Nina’s hair was cut short to her shoulders, a clear nod to a style popular when the Beatles had dominated the airwaves, but decidedly more modern. It was a shaggy, long bob with choppy bangs, blown straight, and it looked fabulous—at least, that’s what Dr. Wilcox had exclaimed when she’d set eyes on Nina.
“You like it?” Nina sounded uncertain.
“Like it? I love it!”
“It was Simon’s suggestion,” Nina said, taking her usual seat. “He saw it in a magazine and thought it would look good on me.”
“Well, it does. You look like a model!”
Nina stifled a little laugh. “I’m not sure I can trust your judgment anymore,” she replied jokingly. “Anyway, I didn’t get the exact style as that girl in the magazine. Her cut was a bit shorter, more layers, and swept forward on the sides with straight bangs. But I thought a new look would be good for my new job.”
“I think it’s fabulous,” Dr. Wilcox said, still beaming as she picked up her notebook, a signal to Nina that the session had officially begun. “Speaking of jobs, how are you feeling about yours?”
Nina went into a lengthy oration about her apprehension, concerns about Maggie and Connor, fear of failure, a grab bag of insecurities and self-doubt, and eventually came to the conversation with Simon the night he gave her the Coach bag.
“Sounds like he was sending you mixed messages,” Dr. Wilcox said. “Part of him is proud of you for getting the job, but another part is feeling insecure about it. Why do you think that is?”
Nina gave it some thought before shrugging her shoulders. “I really don’t know,” she said. “He’s never been insecure before, at least not with me. He’s actually quite self-assured. He has to be, to command a classroom.”
“Maybe it stems from something in his history. Many of our insecurities have roots in the past. Have you ever talked about it with him?”
“No, certainly not in this context. We’ve discussed his difficult relationship with his parents,” Nina offered. “His father was ex-military, very exacting and precise. Simon told me he was physically and verbally abusive to his mother.
“And his mom suffered from postpartum depression and had continued episodes of depression for years. To some degree I experienced depression as well after Maggie was born. So in that way I really can empathize with him and his mother. Simon’s faced more personal challenges than most people I know.”
“In what way?”
Nina hesitated, unsure how much to share.
“Well … his first wife left him,” she eventually said. “They were very young, inexperienced, and, well, those things happen. Eventually he remarried, to a woman named Emma, who tragically committed suicide.” Nina felt guilty for revealing Simon’s personal history. At the same time, their lives were conjoined now, which helped to offset her misgivings. “Pills of some sort, it was an overdose. He found her dead in the bathtub. He was at school, teaching, when it happened.”
Dr. Wilcox grimaced. “That’s awful and deeply scarring for all,” she said, sounding genuinely sorry. “Maybe your new job is bringing up repressed feelings for him. He’s dealing with a lot of change, too.”
Nina had not thought about Simon’s issues in those terms, but it made sense. One evening the previous summer, when she’d been at Simon’s place for dinner, he had shared with Nina the diary Emma kept, detailing her profound depression. The entries described a private pain that had haunted her for years: her exhaustion, her overwhelming sadness, her inability to connect or to care.
Nina had read only a couple pages before Simon grew anxious, but it was enough to get a clear picture. Simon had found the diary while packing up Emma’s belongings, and he blamed himself for not knowing the dire extent of his wife’s suffering. In error, he had believed that love and Prozac would be enough to pull her out of the darkness.
On top of the hurt and guilt Simon still felt, he was trying to rebuild his life, trying to reach Maggie, stay connected to Connor, do his job, adjust to a new house, a new neighborhood—poor guy had had nearly as many upheavals as Nina. And she’d just added one more to the mix with this job of hers.
“Maybe he needs therapy,” Dr. Wilcox suggested. “I could certainly give you some referrals if that’s of interest.”