Every single day.

Nem thought he probably adhered to the Star Wars mantra too seriously. All that force stuff made him believe in his invincibility and that everything would work out in the end.

Nem knew differently, but she wanted to believe in a happy future too. She wanted a normal life with a husband and kids like in the movies and the books she loved to read. Her real life was sometimes closer to a horror story. Life with a partner who loved her was, in reality, a fantasy tale.

Children were a problem. What if the power of the diary was genetic? What if she bred half a dozen more like her; all destined to own their own special green book?

What if you don’t? she told herself. What if everything works out just fine and you’re happy forever? These were the constant arguments running through her head. It was enough to put her in a bad mood, and she couldn’t have that either with Greg around. She needed to decide before a disaster happened.

After a week of his determined badgering, which included flowers, cards and chocolates, she’d begun to laugh and joke with him.

“Careful, I might say yes, and you don’t know what you’re getting in this package.”

“I know exactly,” he replied, pulling her body into him and kissing her. For a moment, within his embrace, she dreamed of a warm and wonderful future.

He didn’t have a clue about her or the diary and that was a problem because he wouldn’t know not to make her angry. If she lost her temper, there was a possibility he would be hurt. Your average couple fought, made-up and lived on to fight another day. A natural relationship. How would she avoid the you’re-getting-on-my-nerves arguments if they lived together? He might even change for the worse, like Alan did with her mom.

Then if children came along, what then? She’d heard pregnancy hormones spread your emotions all over the place. Babies keep you up at night, and sleep deprivation wouldn’t work well with her self-control.

No, no, absolutely not, she told herself, for every which way her romantic self argued for a yes. Marriage, in her case, was a thumbs down. The vision of her mom, blood everywhere on the floor as she mouthed sorry, was enough to strengthen her resolve.

Greg though wasn’t making it easy. The more he talked about their future and his love for her, the more Nem warmed to the idea. Damn him, somehow he’d begun to make her believe she could do this. His arguments were hard to contest because she couldn’t tell him the truth.

She began to strategize how to avoid becoming overwhelmed with emotion if they did marry. If she felt her anger growing, she could leave and go for a walk. What if it’s snowing or raining? Well, she could lock herself in the bathroom. Or slip on a headset with calming music. She’d discovered beautiful pictures of art masterpieces helped, and she’d bought several coffee table books which included photos of the work of Monet, Van Gogh and others.