And then a certain realization takes hold. Because even in the wreckage of what I just found, my brain won't stop doing the math—responding to his logical sensibility. His infinite ability to justify absolutely any action he takes, no matter how absurd—how utterlywrongand fucked up.
I think back for a moment, recalling every time it’s ever feltlike something was off with him, and scrunch up my face. Because he’s right. I hate that he’s right.
I hate the things he does to get to the place we end up at. I hate the way he casually manipulates me into doing exactly what he wants.
It reminds me of my abuser, of the person that gaslit me constantly about the tiniest things. Moving things subtly around the house so I thought I was losing my mind. Recalling conversations in a way that never happened to make me feel like I was going insane.
Yet those actions were about him getting the upper hand over me, of weakening me and making me bend to his will. To diminish me and make himself superior. To make my life smaller, systematically dismantling it until it was a husk of what it previously was.
But with Soren, it’s different. I can’t deny that every single decision he’s cajoled me into making—every little adjustment he’s made to my life—it’s all been for the better.
I take an inventory:
My living arrangements: drastically improved.
My job: less stressful, more lucrative, more enjoyable.
My sex life: exponentially better.
My nervous system: a hell of a lot calmer than I can recall it being in… maybe ever.
How he got here, I hate it. More than anything. Except for maybe my psycho ex.
But the results? Undeniable.
More money, more sex, more fun, more joy.More, more, more. When everyone else—always—was trying to make me less. Make me shrink. Make me disappear.
Yet, in consuming me, he’s making me disappear in his own way.
“Aaaaagh!” I scream. I’m usually more articulate. But my brain is short-circuiting as it tries to do the mental gymnasticsnecessary to wrap my mind around all of this. It’s not rational. And in this moment, I just don’t fucking care.
I give up.
My body unclenches and the tears start flowing. Wracking sobs that make my shoulders jerk.
I collapse onto the floor, tucking my knees in and hugging them to me.
He comes to me and sits down beside me in silence. He puts his arm around me, his grip firm, and I’m too tired to resist.
I just want it all to go away. To be easier. To not be so fucking confusing.
Finally, my sobs abate and I look up at him.
“This isn’t over,” I say. “But right now, I need rest.”
CHAPTER 61
SOREN
I’ve really fucked everything up.
It’s the opposite of what I intended.
By learning Ivy, I expected I’d be able to create a safe space for her. To comfort her in a way that met her needs.
Instead, she thinks I’ve ruined her life.
I understand why she’d think that. She worked so hard building her business, and with a few keystrokes I made her into a PR disaster.