The Affair

Previously on The Affair...

Whitney is part of a group of kids

that have been bullying Jody online.

What?

She wants us to go in there with her.

Where? To... To therapy?

Mr. Solloway, do you know a place called "The End"?

- No, what is it? - It's a club out in Montauk.

Both: Uncle Max!

I didn't know you invited Max.

- Helen the felon. - Hello.

Come here.

You're never going to be successful

if you only write one book a decade.

I'm never going to be successful?

That's not what I said.

You owe me money, Hodges.

You owe me a permit, asshole.

- Oscar called the police. - How do you know?

'Cause I was there. I saw him do it.

Cole, we need to dump this shit, throw it in the ocean.

Why don't you go back to the ranch?

Find someplace on the edge of the property,

someplace discreet, make sure nobody's watching.

Dig a hole. I'll bring the check.

- You take Hal with you. - I'm telling you, man,

if you bury it, someone's going to find it.

Hal, Hal, please, please.

You deal fucking coke?

Do you know how stupid that is?

I thought about what you said before,

and I-I don't want that life anymore.

After today, I'd have to be insane to keep this going.

_

Thank you for coming in.

Because it's our last session out here,

I thought it was a good opportunity to check in,

so Whitney can share some feelings

which have been difficult for her.

Okay, so, in terms of, like,

why this thing happened...

I mean, I definitely didn't understand

the gravity of the situation.

But I have been extremely stressed because mom is...

Address her directly.

Okay, because you do put

an extreme amount of pressure on me.

I-I don't. I-I give you...

Let her speak, please.

You do, actually.

To be totally fine and okay all the time, completely together.

You know, nobody can be upset

for more than five seconds with you.

It's the whole way you are.

Like, even with dad, you act like

you guys are this perfect couple

when you guys are clearly having

some serious issues.

Look, no marriage is perfect.

Whitney, let's stay focused on your feelings.

Well, I feel like dad is miserable.

What?

No, because mom is clearly having some kind of affair.

- What? - Wait, what?

We're still not allowed to talk?

Look, that is so not true.

You're not having some kind of thing with Max?

- Max? - Max?

- You're way off here, Whitney. - No.

Whitney, could you step into the waiting room?

I'd like to speak to your mom and dad privately.

Which is the waiting room?

Oh, right, sorry.

I forgot we're not in my office.

Um, how about the kitchen? Or the hall?

Whichever's more comfortable for you.

So, um...

I'm hearing that Whitney's observations

are not ringing true to you?

- No. - Not at all.

Okay.

Sometimes when a child is acting out,

it can be the expression of other crises

in the family system.

I'm wondering if you...

well, the two of you might be interested

in doing some work as a couple.

Not with me but with a trusted colleague.

Thanks, but we really don't need that kind of work, so...

I think it would help Whitney.

Let's leave today.

- It's only Tuesday. -

It's time to go home.

Okay.

- I'm staying till Sunday. - No, you're not.

That was the plan,

and that's what I'm calibrated for.

Yeah, well, get un-calibrated and start packing, now.

- My nails are wet. - I'll do it.

No, she can do it. Where does this picture go?

Right there.

Whitney,

why would you say something like that to your therapist?

Why do you think?

I think it's difficult for you to accept responsibility

for what you did to Jody.

I think that you're deflecting the situation.

Why do you keep denying my reality?

- I'm not denying your reality. - Yes, you...

Stop touching my clothes.

Jesus Christ, I am trying to help you.

I'm...

Hey, can someone drive me to the Ranch?

I want to say good-bye.

- You said good-bye. - No, I didn't.

I was going to say good-bye this weekend,

and now you're making us leave early.

Oh, so first you didn't want to come,

and now you don't want to leave?

I have to make an apology.

Apologize? For what?

Just... I made a mistake with a horse.

So just... just write a letter.

Okay? It's more polite.

No, he wants to accept responsibility for something.

Why don't you just run him over there?

- No! I got things to do... - No? What...

You do it. I'll pack the kids up.

It'll take you, like, 20 minutes.

- Hey. - Hey, Cole, um...

I wanted to say sorry about the horse.

Yeah, that was crazy.

What happened?

I don't know.

Well, we got her back, so it's all okay.

We're leaving. Today.

Back to Brooklyn, huh?

Yeah. I just wish we lived out here.

Well, Martin, you were a great hand.

We will miss you.

I'll tell you what, I'll make you a deal.

If you do good in school this year,

next summer when you come back, we'll make sure we keep a space

- open for you, how's that sound? - All right.

Hal's out back if you want to say good-bye.

Great kid you got there.

Thanks.

I'd keep an eye on him.

Seems like he's kind of hungry for attention.

Sure, like... like any teenage boy.

Martin, we gotta go.

I'll go get him.

That's it?

What?

Let's go.

I want to be out of here fast, so get yourself packed up, okay?

Oh, no performance art.

- I knew you were irrational. - Irrational, how dare you?

How dare I?

Imply I had some kind of agenda.

You're saying she came up with this herself?

I could sue her!

You guys, it's just a stupid magazine article.

She merely observed the truth.

What, that you write my books?

Just that I help a great deal. Collaborate, even.

Collaborate my ass!

Okay, just try writing one on your own.

I've already written 17!

You poor, deluded bastard.

- Oh, go to hell. - Total shitstorm.

A profile came out on my dad in Vanity Fair today.

Holy shit.

- I have to see it. - You have to see it.

"His wife, seemingly worn from years of unacknowledged efforts

as his first editor and frequent rewriter."

- - Amazing.

I know, he's livid. He might actually kill her.

Maybe we shouldn't leave.

I'm kidding. Jesus, maybe you might kill me.

"She appeared to have soothed Butler's overwrought sentences

into the genteel prose of his better work."

Oh, my God.