“Peter. I want to talk to you. And please, let me finish before you say anything.” Peter furrowed his brow but nodded his acknowledgment as he sipped his coffee. You took a deep breath before beginning. “These last few months have been taxing. And I know that you deal with stress well under normal circumstances. But you have had two major losses in less than three months.”

He nodded his head, looking straight ahead.  His eyes were tense and his jaw clenched. You knew he wasn’t going to like what you were about to say. It had built for a few weeks and you couldn’t let it get any worse.

“I’m worried about you Peter. You’re coming home later every night, drinking more than normal or healthy and you missed my last prenatal appointment. Your just, not you babe.” You waited for his reaction.

Peter stood and started pacing. His hand rubbed the back of his neck. “I seem to be failing everyone lately; Pam, you, the kids. Sam and his Dad, mirror images of the relationship I had with my father. I couldn’t help Sam or his family, or those kids. I’ve let you down” His voice cracked.

“Hey,” your voice calm as you stood and approached him, taking his hands, “that is not what I meant, Peter. I love you so much. You have failed no one. Please understand that. I just worry. You know you can talk to me anytime, about anything. But this runs deeper than what I can do for you. I think you need to see a counselor or psychiatrist.”

Peter grabbed you, leaning his weight into you and sobbed. Your heart broke in that instant. You walked him to the couch where he laid his head in your lap. One hand soothed his back, the fingers of your other hand brushed his temple. Peter’s arms wrapped around your middle. You held him for several minutes.

“You’ll get through this and I’m going to be with you every step of the way. I got you, babe.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek. That was a promise that you refused to break.