When Dennis and Erica had first come to Dr. Morris, Erica suspected that Dennis had been having an affair and Dennis thought that Erice had let herself go. She didn't care about their home, not that she found herself a job. That was several weeks ago. This session would be the halfway point through the therapy.

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Dennis shifted uncomfortably on the couch, maintaining a noticeable distance of about two feet from his wife, Erica. He glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to Dr. Morris, the marriage counselor, who sat across from them with a patient, attentive expression.

"Dr. Morris," Dennis began, his tone a mix of frustration and resignation, "I'm just at my wit's end. Erica and I... we used to be so close, but now it feels like we're living in different worlds."

Erica's eyes flickered with hurt, but she remained silent, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Dennis continued, his voice rising slightly as he spoke. "Doctor Morris, she does things to spite me. I wanted to wear the pink dress today. She knew it, but when I took my shower, she put on the pink dress just because she knew I wanted it."