The first two years of our marriage had been damn near perfect. Annie and I adored each other. We spent our free time together-traveling, eating out, socializing with our friends-it didn't matter what we were doing as long as we did it as a couple. I'm sure it helped we were in counseling almost from day one, but that never bothered me. Annie had a daunting past, and I wanted to ensure I was always there to help mitigate the demons.
When she first invited me to a session, her apprehension was apparent-mine was, too. I'd never been in any type of therapy, but it was critical for Annie, and I tried to view it as an opportunity to be part of the healing. While we dated, she had opened up about the abuse she'd endured in high school. I knew about Will committing suicide and her feeling respo
