𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧

𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆 24: "𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏"

୨୧
France, Paris
Therapy
B.G.C.
──── ୨୧ ────

We were sitting in the therapist’s office for the third time, and I could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on me. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, or maybe it was just the tension in the room. I glanced at Shawn from the corner of my eye, and the tightness in his jaw told me he was ready for a fight. It was always like this—tense, strained, like we were both waiting for the other to strike first.

“So, what’s been going on this week?” the therapist asked, her voice soft and calm, the perfect contrast to the storm brewing between us.

Shawn leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “She doesn’t want to lay next to me,” he said flatly, his eyes fixed on the floor. “She’d rather sleep with our daughter than her own husband.”

I could feel the heat rising in my chest, a slow burn of anger that I’d been holding in for too long. My jaw clenched, but I stayed quiet for a moment, letting him get it out. He always started like this—blaming me, as if every problem between us was my fault.

The therapist looked between us, waiting for me to respond. I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “It’s not like that,” I said, my voice low but firm. “It’s not about Blue. It’s about the fact that I don’t feel safe around you anymore.”

Shawn’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “Safe?” he scoffed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I shook my head, feeling the frustration boiling over. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Shawn. Every time I try to have a conversation with you, it turns into an argument. Every time we’re alone, it feels like I’m walking on eggshells. You don’t listen to me. You don’t respect me.”

He rolled his eyes, and that small, dismissive gesture set something off inside me. I could feel the anger bubbling up, pushing its way to the surface.

“And let’s not forget the way you flirt with every damn girl who gives you a second glance,” I added, my voice sharper now. “You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t see how you look at them, how you talk to them like you’re single?”

Shawn’s face twisted with anger, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair. “You’re exaggerating,” he shot back, his voice rising. “I’m just being friendly. You’re the one who’s always shutting me out, making me feel like I’m not even in this marriage anymore.”

The therapist interjected, her calm voice cutting through the rising tension. “Beyoncé, it sounds like you’re feeling a lot of mistrust. And Shawn, you’re feeling disconnected, like you’re being pushed away. Is that accurate?”

I nodded stiffly, my eyes fixed on the floor. Disconnected didn’t even begin to cover it. I felt like we were living in two separate worlds, held together only by the thinnest thread of obligation.

Shawn leaned forward, his voice full of frustration. “Look, I’m not perfect, okay? I know I messed up before, but I’ve been trying. I’ve been doing everything I can to make things right, but it’s like nothing’s ever good enough for you. You don’t even try anymore.”

I looked up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “Trying? Is that what you call it? Trying means more than just showing up, Shawn. It means listening, it means caring about how I feel. And right now, I feel like I’m invisible to you.”

His face twisted in frustration, his fists clenching. “You’re the one who’s made yourself invisible. You don’t let me in. Hell, you don’t even sleep in the same bed as me anymore. How the hell am I supposed to fix things when you keep running away?”