Chapter 6: Seeking Counsel
By the following morning, the reality of the situation had settled over the house like a thick, gray fog. Clara had slept on the living room sofa, staring up at the ceiling until dawn, while David had locked himself in the guest bedroom, staring blindly at his phone. They had barely exchanged a word since the disaster of the baby shower.
At nine o'clock, David’s phone buzzed aggressively on the nightstand. It was Marcus, his closest friend and a seasoned family law attorney. Marcus had been one of the guests at the party the day before, having slipped away quietly after Lily’s revelation, wisely deciding to give his friend space while recognizing the legal and emotional catastrophe unfolding.
""David,"" Marcus’s voice came through the speaker, steady and professional yet laced with deep concern. ""How are you holding up, man?""
""I feel like I'm living in an alternate universe, Marcus,"" David replied, rubbing his temples where a dull, throbbing headache had taken up permanent residence. ""I don't even know what's real anymore. I walked through the nursery this morning and felt like I was visiting a museum dedicated to a stranger’s life.""
""Listen to me, David,"" Marcus said, his tone shifting into advisory mode. ""You need to protect yourself legally and emotionally right now. Faking a pregnancy to this extent, involving family, throwing a public shower, and inducing severe emotional distress under false pretenses... it crosses several serious lines. Has she agreed to seek professional help?""
David looked through the open door of the guest room toward the kitchen, where he could see Clara sitting silently at the island, holding a mug of untasted coffee. She looked small, fragile, and utterly defeated in her oversized cardigan.
""She hasn't left the house,"" David said softly into the phone. ""She says she lost her mind of grief after the miscarriage two years ago and just spiraled out of control. But Marcus... I don't know if this is something counseling can fix. How do you rebuild trust when the foundation of your entire marriage was built on a silicone pillow?""
""You don't have to decide everything today,"" Marcus advised gently. ""But you need boundaries. Don't let her isolate you, and don't let her manipulate the narrative with family. Aunt Sarah has already called my firm asking if fraud charges apply in a domestic setting. People are angry, David.""
""Tell Sarah to stand down,"" David sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. ""I don't want a circus. I just want... clarity. I need to talk to someone who understands the psychological wreckage behind something like this.""
""There’s a clinical psychologist I work with in downtown Seattle, Dr. Harrison,"" Marcus said, rattling off a number. ""She specializes in trauma-induced compulsive behaviors and pathological delusion. Set an appointment for both of you, or at least for yourself. You need an objective professional to untangle this mess before you make any permanent decisions.""
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David thanked his friend and hung up the phone. He sat on the edge of the guest bed for a long moment, listening to the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, before finally standing up to face the day.
***
