I quietly grab the knife and move it underneath the armchair so he can’t see it, so he can’t instantly retrieve it when he remembers what he was planning to do.
Part of me considers running away, but his behavioral shift was so sudden. I peer over at him, and his face has returned to normal. To the cute, sparkly-eyed surfer, not the reptilian demon who almost murdered someone.
I sigh with relief, exhausted, still in a fog. Trying to parse apart how someone can act so calm and loving and funny and fun could also be this completely other person. It doesn’t make sense, and my brain just won’t process it.
Days later,it’s just me and Matty in the living room.
“I’m sorry he tried to stab you the other day. That was a bit crazy,” I say. “I moved the knife when he wasn’t looking, so he couldn’t see where it was.”
Matty shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” His voice is casual, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“He tried to shank you, though? He was waiting for you to come out of the room, with the knife in his hand. He stood there for ages, waiting, but thankfully you didn’t come out.”
“Eh, no worries,” says Matty, as if I’m saying someone accidentally ate something of his from the fridge.
Everyone’s acting like it was just normal. Everyone except me. Maybe I’m too uptight. Maybe this is normal behavior. Everyone around me seems to think it is.
I’m the only one with the problem.
73
TRAUMA BONDED TO A BOMB
Dex
She’s trauma bonded to this monster.
She doesn’t see it, but I sure do.
There’s literally nothing he’s providing to benefit her, except for dick. And even that’s questionable. She could get good dick anywhere.
I see why she’s in this position, though. Her last ex was fine, checked all the boxes except for the dick part. But she wasn’t in love with him. She loved him. That sounds super corny and cliché, but it’s true.
And then she finds this guy, and he seems exciting. And he is, to a degree.
But it’s because he’s steeped in instability. And he’s a dangerous, unhinged manipulator who will destroy her life. That’s all he knows how to do.
But I can’t just walk up to her and say that, as tempting as it may be.
I’d be the villain then. They’d unite against me, the common enemy.
He’s written off all of her other friends who have tried and failed to come between them.
And it just builds her image of him, that he’s a protector. That he will save her.
When he’s really the only person who wants to destroy her.
It’s sick. He’s sick. I’m sick about it.
“Is she still dating that dickhead?” Jordan asks, reading my expression and knowing I’m thinking about her.
“Yeah,” I frown. “They’re engaged.”
“Jesus, that didn’t take long.”
I scoff. “He proposed within ten days. He knew she was better than him and he locked that shit down.”
“Probably made her feel really special.”