She used to tell herself that it was normal, natural, this separation between the two of them. And it was, at first. After the honeymoon period, all couples reach the same fork in the road and they make a choice: they either grow apart and develop their own interests, or, like April Cooper and Gabriel LeRoy, they become codependent, feeding off and fueling each other’s weaknesses until neither one of them can stand on their own.

But Robin and Eric had gone overboard. They’d started growing apart, ever so slightly, before he’d taken the job at Anger Management, a show they’d both made fun of, but one that paid very well. He’d assured her at first that he was only doing it for the money—a short-term fix that could take care of both their student debts. And though the old, scrupulous Eric never would have considered a move like that, it was one that Robin, fresh off a stint at a trashy celebrity mag, completely understood.

What neither of them had figured on was how Eric’s job would accelerate the growing apart until it became unnatural, unhealthy. How as the months, then years went by, the job would absorb him the way a lover would. How Eric would grow defensive of Anger Management, of creepy, cleavage-ogling, whiskey-stinking Shawn Labatoir, whom Robin couldn’t bear to be in the same room with. But that’s what had happened. Responding to her complaints about his long hours, his dubious “scoops,” his devotion to a man they had both considered a fraud, Eric had turned argumentative, then secretive, then absent most of the time. And eventually, Robin had stopped complaining. It was easier to nod and simmer, to rely on the support of her parents instead of her husband, to glare at his Twitter feed and ply her mind with suspicions and pull even further apart. Only now did she really feel how much damage had been done—now that her father was gone and she wasn’t sure who her mother truly was—and beyond anything else she needed someone to talk to, to trust.

Robin felt Eric watching her.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

She looked at him, millions of dollars of thoughts running through her mind but only the strongest one escaping. “I miss you,” she said. “I miss us.”

Eric moved closer to her. He took her in his arms as though she were made of glass and kissed her very gently.

“Stop.”

He let go. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Robin grabbed hold of his shirt. She pulled him to her, with a force that surprised them both. “Stop treating me like I’m going to break.”