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Dhan liked having Margaret in his place. It was no secret that he didn’t do well on his own, so Margaret wanting to stay at the same time he needed a house guest worked out quite well. In fact, it worked out so well that it made him think about the place Ethan held in his life.
When they’d first gotten together, everyone from Dhan’s friends to the state psychiatric board had chimed in about how problematic the relationship was. Dhan had held his ground and claimed he needed to be with Ethan. That he loved him. That being with Ethan helped him. Made him normal. It wasn’t anything to do with therapy. He would have fallen in love with Ethan no matter how they met. Ethan had confessed their affair to his professional licensing board and given up his practice.
But lately Ethan had been taking issue with Dhan’s work. Always upset that when Gabi called it didn’t matter what they were doing, he just went. Always questioning his unthinking loyalty to her. Should Ethan have been mad that Dhan had told everyone else about Gabi's crimes first? Maybe. Ethan was his husband. Dhan should tell him things first, right? But there had been a certain tone to his complaint–like that you’re supposed to tell your psychiatrist everything or he can’t help you.
When Dhan defended their relationship, he had insisted that wasn’t their dynamic–but it kind of was. Was he the patient so fascinating that Ethan was willing to forgo all others to pick apart his brain full time? Did he admire his resilience and his loyalty–or did he just think he needed the help and was so compassionate he'd chosen to altruistically stand by him?
Dhan didn’t know who to ask. He was pretty sure that everyone at M&A had accepted Ethan into their lives the same way they’d accepted Gabi’s obsession with Sir, Lacey’s pathological positivity, Margaret’s nightly visits to the bus station and Zeke’s limitations due to agoraphobia. They all knew sometimes you had to do weird shit to get by.
It was dawning on Dhan that maybe he was getting better. Maybe he had grabbed hold of Ethan with both hands because he needed him more than he’d actually loved him. And if their relationship had been mostly about Dhan needing help, Ethan might be a crutch he wasn’t going to need forever. Which was fine for him, but how could he ever tell Ethan?
Ethan thought they were going to have a family someday. How crazy was that?
This is why you don’t sleep with your psychiatrist, Dhan thought, sighing before taking a sip of his beer.
He got a text. Gabi. He poured the rest of the beer down the drain and left, heading out to an address Gabi had sent him.
He wasn’t sure what the abandoned warehouse had to do with their current case, but Gabi had just asked for backup, so he drove up without hesitation. He didn’t see Gabi’s car.
Dhan peered into the dirty window, then pushed open the heavy steel door. “Gabi? You there?”
“I’m afraid not,” a voice said.
Dhan would know that voice anywhere. It was Sir, but he was almost certain he couldn’t be nearby. He was too much of a coward to approach Dhan, even alone.
Dhan’s eyes adjusted to the gloom and he saw that the voice was coming from a walkie-talkie. He walked across the room and picked it up, depressing the button to talk. “What do you want?” He knew he should just walk away. It was bad enough that the man was trying to get in everyone’s head–the last thing he should do is listen to him. But for all he knew the guy had Gabi and that’s how he’d texted using her number. “Is Gabi safe?”
“I cloned her number. She’s safe. You’ve got such admirable protective instincts. It must have been awful for you when you were captured, being reduced to self-preservation. Did they make you betray your men? Your country? Is that why you lost faith in yourself?”
“Better than losing faith in yourself because your mommy was mean to you,” Dhan said.
“You’d do well to be respectful. I could have a gun trained on you.”
Gabi didn’t think Sir would kill any of them, so Dhan didn’t think so either. Besides, they were having a conversation for a reason. “Why did you call me here?” Dhan asked.
“I was concerned about you. It must be so hard, with your husband moving out.”
Dhan huffed a breath. “You really want to poke at me about my marital issues?”
“I want to help you. You don’t really think that Ethan lost his license just because of his one breach of professionalism with you, did you? Doctors can get away with a lot more than you’d think. But not if they do it more than once. Not, for instance, if it was the forth time they’d been caught with a patient.”
Dhan’s heart pounded. He couldn't believe it, but in a way, he did. Sir wouldn’t taunt him with a lie. He might make it seem worse than it was. Maybe it was some breach of professional ethics that was on Ethan’s file but not an affair with a patient. It could be an exaggeration. But he wouldn’t outright lie.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Gabi’s too sweet. Too supportive. She lets you lean on her and she lets you have your little emotional crutches. But you have to stand on your own two feet if she’s going to be able to leave you all with a clear conscience.”
Dhan let out a bitter laugh. “You’re trying to make us all mentally stable? Well, good luck with that.”
“I should have started with you. You're the closest one to being normal. But you’re more difficult to talk to because you’re not afraid of me. You’ve caught me before, and you wouldn’t hesitate to kill me this time. I admire that about you. My life would be a lot easier if I was a killer.”
“Your life would be a lot easier if you just solved your own mental issues. I know; Gabi’s great. But you gotta let her go. She’s not your daughter or your wife you don’t want to have sex with because then you’d have to kill her because she wouldn’t be pure. She’s everything you’re not. She’s brave and strong and brilliant. She doesn’t need some weird teacher who tried to groom her in high school hanging around.”
“I guess that you’re the expert on power imbalances. Did your psychiatrist groom you, or was it more of a hypnosis thing? Psychic driving?”
“Shut up, man! Our relationship might be a little codependent, but it’s not like that.”
“You don’t sound too convinced. I’m going to leave you now, but I’d like to leave you with a final thought. Homework, if you will. Did Ethan refer you to another psychiatrist when he started sleeping with you, or did he fill both roles at once? Did he want to be everything to you? Because I think if I were you, I’d consider seeing another mental health professional for advice about your relationship. And maybe not one Ethan recommended.”
Well, he’d wanted someone to talk to about Ethan. It was crazy that that person had been Sir, but he couldn’t deny that Sir had made some good points. Gabi always claimed the man was smart and insightful.
But she’d also said he didn’t understand love.
Dhan knew he should go back to M&A and let everyone in on what had happened, but he just couldn’t.
Maybe he should see someone impartial. He’d met a psychiatrist on a case once who’d given him a card–if he couldn’t see him, he could probably give him a referral.
It was all arranged fairly quickly. He did need a referral, but after letting the secretary for the new doctor–Dr. Martin–know the issues he was dealing with, he’d been given an emergency session.
Dr. Martin was a small blonde woman with glasses and a sense of intellectual curiosity about her. Her receptionist ushered Dhan into a warm room with a big window and two comfortable chairs facing each other.
“So, what has you feeling like you’re in crisis?” she asked once they’d exchanged introductions and sat down.
“I was a military serviceman who was held by hostile forces for 3 years. I was tortured, held in solitary confinement–you know the drill, I’m sure. When I was found, I was a wreck. PTSD, fear of being alone, fits of rage. You name it, I had it. I was lucky to find a psychiatrist who helped me a lot. So much so that I started to have romantic feelings for him.”
“And how did he react to those feelings?”
“He gave up his practice and married me,” Dhan said.
It was the look on her face that sealed the deal. Sheer disgust that someone in her profession would allow those lines to blur. Dhan felt his heart sink.
“Is it a happy marriage?” she asked without judgment.
“I thought so. But I’m starting to wonder if it is.”
“Can you unpack that statement for me?”
“I upset him recently. I told my coworkers–but when I say coworkers, I really mean more like family–about something morally questionable that I’d done before I told him. He questioned my loyalty to my boss and my commitment to my job. My job is really important to me. He knows it is. It’s important to my sense of purpose–to my mental health.”
“Did he make you choose between him and your work?”
“No, but he thinks I already did. When I first told him, he thought I told him first and he was fine with it. When he realized he was the last to know, that’s when he was upset. He was so upset that he left me.”
“Was it his pride that was upset, or do you think he wanted to be the one you depend on?”
“I think–the second one. I think he was upset that I had a dilemma and I didn’t run to him.”
“You think he left you because you were displaying independence. What do you think he hoped to achieve by leaving you?”
Dhan expelled a long breath. “I think he wanted me to chase after him. Panic because I was alone. I’ve done it before. Realize I should do what he says because I need him.”
“Do you think it’s possible you’ve outgrown this relationship–or at least the dynamic that it had initially?”
“I feel pathetic. Did I really hook up with a predator just to have someone to take care of me every minute of the day? I’m a soldier. I’m strong. I’m a fighter. I’ve killed people. Did I really marry an abusive psychiatrist?”
“Do you think he’s abusive?”
“I don’t know. And even if he is, how can I leave him? He confessed to falling in love with me and lost his license. I can’t just leave him when he gave up so much for me.”
“That was his choice. You didn’t make it for him. You didn’t force him to do it, did you?”
“No! Of course not. I thought it was a crazy thing to do. And maybe I’m just questioning him because Sir is messing with my head.”
The psychiatrist blinked. “Sir? The Sir?” She shook her head. “Nevermind. That’s not important. What’s important is that you are worried that your relationship is toxic. That it’s not serving you as it should be.”
“Yeah, I mean I guess so. What should I do?”
“I think you should keep seeing me. And I think you should continue to live separately from your husband for a while. It sounds like one of your main concerns is that he’s made you dependent on him, so the best way to see if you are is to try and stand on your own two feet. Do you think you can?”
“No, but I’ve got friends I can lean on. Is that okay? To lean on my friends?”
“Absolutely. There were two major red flags I heard today–one, of course, the blurring of personal and professional lines between you and your husband, and two, the fact that he wanted you to run to him first for help. In a normal marriage I would say of course this should be the case, but the fact that he was your psychiatrist makes this troublesome to me. Any healthy partnership should depend on a support system of friends, neighbors, family, mental and physical health professionals. This is why marriage ceremonies exist–to gather support from everyone in the couple’s life to make the union and their life work. He should be happy you have a loving relationship with your coworkers and friends who support you.”
“Is it possible you’re biased because you find our relationship disgusting?”
“Frankly, yes. Psychiatrists who sleep with their patients are more common than you’d think. It’s not something I’d ever be comfortable with or find healthy for the patient.”
“He made it seem like since he gave up his profession it was all above board. But now Sir told me I was the fourth patient he slept with. Fourth! I know I can’t trust Sir; he's a monster who hates me–but he’s not the type to lie about something I can confirm. He’s smarter than that. Why didn’t I find this out before?”
“The records were probably sealed. I can ask around if you want. Not exactly the most professional behavior on my part, but I think you have a right to know. If you think your husband isn’t actually a predator but more of a well-meaning man who has problems with boundaries, you could also ask him if Sir was telling the truth.”
“I think I’ll ask him. I don’t want to confront him, but I think I have to.”
“If I can give you some advice? You could schedule this conversation when you know one of your friends will be available to support you, or when you know we’re scheduled to have a session afterwards.”
“Thanks doctor.”
He scheduled another appointment with her that week. He liked her. He wasn’t in love with her. Actually he was glad she was a woman so there was no chance he could fall in love with her, because at the moment she felt a bit like a lifeline. His appointment was at three, so he texted Ethan and asked if he could make him lunch that same day.
Ethan agreed.
There was a case, and that filled up the time between then and when the lunch was supposed to happen. When he had to leave work to make lunch, Gabi asked him to do something else.
“I really have to have lunch with Ethan this time,” he said.
Gabi shot him a confused look. “I didn’t get the impression that Ethan was really mad that you missed the last one. Did he give you an ultimatum?”
“No, I have to meet him for me. It’s something I need to do,” Dhan said.
Gabi smiled, impressed. “I’m glad you’re putting yourself first.”
Dhan frowned. “I might not make it back to work afterwards. I’m not sure. Promise me if you need to go anywhere dangerous or if you hear from Sir you’ll call Trent or someone to back you up.”
“I promise, Dhan. You take care of your marriage.”
“Thanks,” Dhan said. This evidence that Gabi wouldn’t hate him if he chose Ethan more often made him question again if he really liked Ethan as much as he thought he did. Maybe he’d been dedicating himself to work so much to avoid being home.
No, that couldn’t be true.
Doubting his marriage, doubting Ethan was making him doubt himself. Doubt his feelings and everything he knew to be true. He needed to talk with him.
He took the food he’d made out of the crockpot and plated it as nicely as he could, poured some non-alcoholic wine in glasses, and by the time he had the table finished there was a knock on the door. Dhan opened it.
“Dhan,” Ethan said, walking in.
“You didn’t have to knock,” Dhan said. “You still have a key.”
“I didn’t want to surprise you,” Ethan said. He leaned over and pecked a kiss on Dhan’s lips.
“Have a seat,” Dhan said. They discussed what he’d made for lunch and caught up for a little bit, and then, before Dhan could find a way to ask about Ethan’s professional past, Ethan looked at him and smiled.
“I was so pleased you invited me here. You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah, I have some questions to ask you,” Dhan said.
“I was hoping you’d have one question in particular to ask.”
Dhan frowned. “Huh?”
“I’m ready to come home, if that’s one of your questions,” Ethan said.
Dhan put down his cutlery. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I–someone told me something about you. I don’t mean to confront you, but I need to know. Was I the first patient you had a relationship with?”
Ethan shot him a dirty look. “Our argument wasn’t about me. It was about you choosing Gabi over me. Confiding in everyone else but me. I forgave you, and now you want to accuse me of things? Bring up ancient history?”
“History? Does that mean it’s true?”
“I’m not sure how it’s any of your business.”
“I’m your husband. And from what I understand, you didn’t choose me over your career. You lost your ability to practice because I was the last in a long list of people you were inappropriate with. I just want to know if it’s true,” Dhan said.
Ethan reverted into therapy mode. “I understand what’s happened. You felt betrayed when I left, and you needed someone to blame, and the person you decided to blame was me. I’m sorry, Dhan. I shouldn't have left. I made it into a bigger deal that it was.”
Dhan stood up and started pacing. “Can you please just tell me the truth right now?”
“I’ve never felt anything close to what I feel when I’m with you. I’ve never fallen so hard or so fast,” Ethan said. “You’re so handsome, so strong. You were able to survive such a hard experience. You’re a marvel. So heroic and loyal.”
Dhan slammed a hand on the kitchen counter. “Goddammit! Fucking Sir was more straightforward with me than you’re being. He told me the truth. Just tell me the truth right now, or we’re over for real.”
“Why were you talking to Sir? Was he the one who told you all this?”
Dhan didn’t say anything. He would forgive that little lapse, but he was waiting for the truth.
Ethan sighed. “Fine. Yes. If you had been the only indiscretion, they would have told me to refer you to someone else and slapped me on the wrist. I would have continued to practice or been suspended for a few years–but able to practice again in the end. But I’d been reported before. Three times. You know what I’m like. I just get so involved. I care so passionately about the people I work with. I couldn’t help it.”
It was like Dr. Martin had said. Ethan was bad with boundaries. So he hadn’t “given up” his career when he’d “chosen” Dhan–Dhan had simply been too big of an indiscretion to ignore.
“Thank you,” Dhan said.
“I love you so much, Dhan,” Ethan said.
“I think you probably do,” Dhan said. “But honestly? I’m not sure I love you. At least, not the way I should love my husband.”
Ethan blinked. He looked completely shocked. “What?”
“I think when I got back I needed you. I needed more care than any friend or any professional with good boundaries could have ever provided. You stepped up, and you gave me the care I needed. You shouldn’t have done it. Maybe I should have been institutionalized. We crossed lines we shouldn’t have. And now that I’m getting better–now that I don’t need your advice on how to plan a trip to the grocery store or stay alone in the apartment–now you’re worried that I don’t need you the way I did when we got married. And I think you’re right.”
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“I’m definitely dumping you as my therapist. I’ve got a new one. I’ll see her at normal intervals. I don’t want to live with you right now. Maybe we can still keep dating, maybe not. You’ve got to see me as just a man, though, not your patient. The way you talk to me sometimes…it’s not the way a partner speaks to another partner. You give me therapy and that’s not what I want from my husband.”
“How many times have you talked to Sir?” Ethan asked. “He’s obviously messing with your head. Trying to alienate you from me. He’s trying to destabilize the team to isolate Gabi so he can take her again.”
“No,” Dhan said, smilingly slightly. “That’s the crazy thing. He’s so twisted he thinks Gabi wants to leave with him, but he doesn’t want her to worry about us. He’s trying to make us stable. He thinks you’re making me weak.”
Ethan threw up his hands. “Imagine, the psychopath thinks being in love makes you weak!”
“No, he thinks that you’re a crutch. That you’re keeping me from getting healthy and being my own person.”
“And you trust him, and not me?”
“At least he’s never lied to me!”
Ethan threw his napkin on the table and stood. “I’ve had enough of this. I won’t be moving back, obviously. I’m not sure I think it’s a good idea for us to see each other right now. Let me know if you want to apologize.”
He left.
Dhan looked down at his hands and realized they were shaking. He had wanted to do this in his apartment because he was scared he’d freak out, but he didn’t know how he was going to make it to his appointment.
He thought about some of the strategies he’d worked out with Ethan to calm down, and decided that having a shower was the best he could do right now. After taking a tranquilizer and having a long shower, he decided to take an Uber to his appointment. He’d be early, but he didn’t want to be here anymore, reminded of Ethan and their life together.
When his appointment finally started, he let loose, telling Dr. Martin everything that had happened. “And then he had the nerve to say he didn’t want to date me until I apologized. To him!” he finished off with.
“Do you really think Sir is trying to make you more stable?”
“One of my coworkers is agoraphobic and he got him to stand outside his apartment with his stupid psychology tricks. I think he’s doing his best to make us more stable–at least as much as it will serve his purpose. He doesn’t care if ultimately it hurts us. Like yeah he got Zeke to stand outside but then he passed out on the floor.”
“And yet you think he did you a favor by telling you about your husband’s past indiscretions.”
“I know you agree with me. I think a big part of me was thinking I made this bed for myself–takes two to tango–he gave up his professional life for me. I know I shouldn’t have thought that in the first place. That I was the one without the power in the situation and I shouldn’t feel obligated to him. But I did. And now–even though my mind is racing and I know I won’t be able to sleep for six months and I’m just crazy with panic–I know I can live without him. I don’t need a crutch anymore.”
“How did you get here from your apartment?”
Dhan explained about the shower and the Uber, and Dr. Martin congratulated him on his coping skills. They went over a few more strategies and Dr. Martin made some suggestions, and then he went home. It was only five, so he got his things together and went to work to see what needed to get done.
Doing the job was the best way he’d ever found to cope.