Frank sat in the minivan with the children while Kim was inside her therapy appointment. He had started taking her due to her anxious nature and forgetfulness behind the wheel. He couldn't help but feel irritated while he waited out the hour. This was a major inconvenience to him. He would have preferred to stay home and work on the house or on his own hobbies. Seemed like all of his things were always put on the back burner while he put Kim and the kids first. Always about them. Their wants. Their needs. Never about him or what he wanted. He couldn't remember the last time he actually had real peace and quiet without someone demanding his attention for one thing or another. He wanted a vacation from his life. Even if he could get a hotel room just to hide out for the weekend. He couldn't imagine the silence. Even now, the kids were fussing. One was hot. One was hungry. One had to use the bathroom. Want, want, want.

Thankfully, he was able to tune them out for most of the hour. Kim was coming back to the car. "How did it go?" He asked without expecting a real answer. She never really discussed what was said inside. He just hoped that she wasn't spitting all her nonsense out to make herself look unstable.

"It was good." She said. That was it. No details. Nothing more.

"I am going to take our son in to use the bathroom." He opened his door, "Stay here with the girls."

Upon entering the building, he pointed their son to the restrooms. He knew that he would be a minute. Frank had other plans to wait it out. He went up to the desk to speak to the receptionist, "I need to speak to my wife's therapist." He told her, "Catherine, I think her name is."

"I can let her know." The receptionist smiled and typed away on her keyboard.

He didn't expect to be so lucky, but after a minute or so, Catherine came into the lobby. "Hello," she greeted him, "Frank, I presume?"

"Yeah." He nodded, "Listen, I'll cut to the chase because I know your time is precious. Kim isn't being herself. I don't know if she has talked to you about it or not, but I don't think her prescription is working. She still seems just a bit off." He wasn't sure how much he should say. Or what would be considered safe to say. He just wanted something that would work. Something that would make his wife normal again.

"Off in what way?" She looked concerned.

He didn't dare to tell her the truth, lest she recommend Kimberly be hospitalized. He wanted his wife home with him. He opted to keep it light, "Just off. Is there any way we can change her meds up?"

Catherine offered a smile, but he could tell it was forced, "Kimberly hasn't indicated that she's interested in trying a new medication. In any case, that's not my department. I just do therapy with her. If she is concerned with her medications, she should definitely bring it up with her doctor on their next visit."

"Right." He said with a dry tone. Lot of help that was.

That night, he decided to try to talk to Kim about it. Maybe he could convince her to bring it up with her doctor. He knew she wasn't a fan of pills, but he just wanted something that would help. "Kim." He tried after dinner while the children played. "Did you take your medication today?"

The way she looked at him when he asked. It was as if she was suspicious of him or something. "Yes." She assured him, "Why?"

He was blunt with his intentions, "You should talk to your doctor about changing them. These ones you're on now don't seem to do anything for you."

Her tone was almost defensive, "They're fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine." She wasn't looking at him again. He had a feeling she wasn't being entirely honest with him. Especially since she didn't seem to be as fine as she claimed to be.

"You should still talk to your doctor. Maybe they have something stronger. Or something different."

She snapped at him, "Make up your mind. You either think there is something wrong with me or you don't. Which is it? Do I need medication, or can I just get over it?"

"I just want you better!" He shot back, "I want my old Kim back. I want you to do whatever it takes to be that again. If that means medications, let's do it."

"You want me to be better just like that!" She snapped her fingers, "It's not that easy! After those procedures, I don't even know if it's possible! I don't even recognize myself half the time!"

He dug in his pocket to put out one of the post-it notes he had found that morning. He had been questioning all day if he should even bring it up with her. He unfolded it to show her a note she had written herself. "Don't trust him." When he saw that, all he could assume was it was written about him. Who else could she have been talking about. "What is this?" He confronted her on it, "inside the bathroom mirror. You left this. What do you mean?"

Her expression was one of genuine confusion. She shook her head and took the note from him. She stared at it like it was some code she had to decipher. Her expression certainly didn't offer him any amount of reassurance. "I don't know." She stammered. "I don't remember writing this." That wasn't a good sign at all. Was that to mean that she was actually leaving herself notes that she didn't remember making all over the house? How many of these were ones she had made while she was zoned out? It still blew his mind that she was able to forget things so easily.

He cut to the chase, "Do you trust me?" He wasn't even sure what he expected her to say. He knew what he wanted to hear. But he didn't know what would ever come out of her mouth these days. She thought everyone was out to get her. Why not him, too?

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she seemed to study him, unsure of herself even. He was almost concerned she hadn't even heard the question. Until she finally answered, "I trust you." She paused with a sigh, "Sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"I trust you when you are yourself." She was hesitant in her speaking again. "Like right now. Right now, you are you. The real you."

He was even more confused than the time she insisted their house was hacked. "I'm always the real me. I'm real. I'm right here."

"Not when you..." She shook her head. She made sure not to make eye contact as she continued, "When you...shift."

"I don't shift, Kim." His patience was beginning to strain, "No one shifts. No one changes. No one is out to get you. Everything is normal and okay." He grabbed her shoulders to make her look him in the eyes now, "Do you hear me? I need you to hear me."

Suddenly, tears overwhelmed her. She broke down crying. He was taken aback. He released her shoulders while she cried into her hands. Through her sobs, she spoke from behind her hands, "I'm scared."

He let out a sigh. He felt he couldn't even have a genuine conversation with his own wife anymore. She was so wrapped up in her own world and fears that she couldn't just focus on the house and the children. It was getting to a point where he was beginning to be concerned about her ability to function and perform as a mother to their children. She already had them scared of every single sound that happened from outside the house. The children were simply terrified of strangers now. Which, to a degree, can be safe. But they were in fear, thinking every single stranger wanted to hurt them in some way. Going to the supermarket was annoying as the children flinched away from people.

He finally spoke up to her as calmly as he could, "There's nothing to be scared of. It's all in your head, Kimmy. Everything you're scared of is all just you."

She lowered her hands slowly, exposing her red, tear streaked face. She gave a very weak nod, her voice a low whisper, "Their legs shouldn't bend that way, Frank. I can't make that up. I've seen it. When they walk. They can't blend in -"

"Enough." He waved his hand to push her words away like some sort of bad scent, "Stop it, Kimberly, just stop it." He grabbed her again. This time, into a tight hug. "I promise you, that's not real. You're seeing things. Please talk to the doctor about your medications. I really need you to be okay. I need you to come back to me. The children need you more than anything. They need their mother to keep them safe. They need you to teach them about the world. To show them they are safe with you. You can't keep scaring them like this."

"I know." She whispered into his shoulder. "I know. Everything is okay. Everything is going to be fine. I'll talk to the doctor."

"Thank you." He released her once more. He wished he could sit in with her appointment tomorrow. Hoping to ask for more help while not making it so obvious how badly she needed it. He didn't know how she would bring it up with her doctor. He was just hoping there would be some kind of improvement. Even if they did change it, it would be another six weeks or so until they saw any change. They just had to hold on until then.