The Vacation That Wasn’t
Adapted from a true account in The Atlantic's "Dear Therapist"
They had booked the vacation months before the affair came to light — a couple’s retreat in Sedona, known for its red rocks with “rejuvenating” energies. Now, she didn’t know whether to cancel or not. In the end, she went. He came too.
“We didn’t speak the whole first day,” she said. “Not a word. Just sulked separately in paradise.”
But on the second evening, they were sitting by a fire pit, and an overeager retreat host asked, “What brought you two here?”
Without missing a beat, he said, “Well, apparently, poor judgment.”
She let out a laugh so hard she startled herself. Not because it was that funny, but because it was true. And because it was his first real moment of owning the mess with something other than shame or silence.
They didn't fix everything that week. But they did start talking again — about fire, and forgiveness, and which kind of rocks really deserved the label “healing.”
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