[...] That was a time when he was still sure that if Rachel could just see her anger and her nastiness through a neutral screen, she could get help and they could move beyond it. But he was also already thinking that maybe this was a last-ditch effort before realizing that this was not something that could be fixed.

It was the same bullshit. She said: “I feel like I’m being punished for earning a living.” And “I feel like I have to tiptoe around my success, that he loves what the money brings and hates me for bringing it.” And “I talk to him plenty nicely. He screams and throws things when he’s angry and I do my best to stay neutral. I do it for the children. I wish he would, too.” He was made physically weak from her accusations and her lies. Were they lies? Or did she actually believe all of this? As much as Toby tried, it became clear that the advantage in couples therapy accrued to the person who could hold their shit together. He wanted to cry, he wanted to hold his fists up at her and make her hear him. As they went back and forth, Toby trying to refute every half sentence, even knowing that that was the wrong thing to do, he could feel himself losing the room. Dr. Joe took his glasses off and used the heel of the same hand to wipe his eye in what appeared to be poorly veiled exhaustion.