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At the appointed time, Abby picked up Jake and drove into Chaumont for their separate therapy sessions with Dr. Jacoby. When Abby pulled up to Dr. Jacoby's house, Jake got out, for his session was first. Not wanting to wait in the jeep, Abby visited an art gallery for half an hour and then returned for her round with the therapist.

"So," began the doctor, after Abby was seated in his home office, "how are you and Jake getting along?"

"Fine," replied Abby.

"How are you feeling about the marriage?" he asked, sitting back in his chair.

"It's a little weird," admitted Abby, "but I'm handling it."

"How do you think Jake is doing?" wondered the doctor.

"He hides from me a lot," she confessed, "but, I think that's mainly because he's just getting used to the idea of me living in the same house with him."

Dr. Jacoby leaned forward in his chair.

"You moved in with Jake?" he asked.

"I thought he already told you," replied Abby, a little surprised by Dr. Jacoby's reaction.

The therapist shook his head disappointedly.

"I knew Jake wasn't being very communicative with me," he sighed, "but, I had hoped we were further along than this."

"Lately, Jake avoids me whenever he can," continued Abby, "especially at home. I haven't told my parents this, but I sometimes wonder if it was such a good idea for me to move in. I'm not sure if I'm making things easier for him, or harder."

"Have you asked Jake how he feels about this?" wondered Dr. Jacoby.

"He'll never tell me to leave," she replied.

"Now that you two are sharing the same roof," advised the therapist, "you need to be aware of certain issues that might arise from your close proximity to each other. You both made a deal to keep the relationship platonic, so you must give each other enough space to be comfortable with that decision. If Jake continues to hide in his room, then I must recommend to his parole officer that you move out of the house."

"I understand," answered Abby.

When Abby went back out to the jeep, she found Jake working on his sketchpad. Before she got close enough to see what he had been working on, Jake tucked it into his pocket.

"What were you drawing?" she asked, curiously.

The young man reluctantly pulled the sketchpad out and handed it to her. It was a rough pencil outline of Dr. Jacoby's house.

"Why did you hide this from me?" she asked, tossing it back to him.

"I wasn't hiding it," muttered Jake, putting the sketchpad away.

"Before we got married, you let me see your drawings," she reminded him. "Why are you holding back all of a sudden?"

"I'm not holding back," he insisted. "I just like my privacy, that's all."

The drive to Three Mile Bay was quiet and uneventful. When they reached home, Jake made a beeline to his room without saying a single word to anyone.
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