The fear rose up inside of me, like bile trying to make an eruptive escape, but I shoved it down. I was doing this. I wasn’t running anymore. I wasn't going to swallow the truth. The truth was like vegetables. It was good for you, even if it tasted like shit. "My ex-boyfriend… abused me for years. When I came here, I was basically running away from him. "

I don't know what I expected. Shock. Surprise. Something. Instead there was a somewhat detached empathy, but her eyes were soft, and she nodded encouragingly. She gestured for me to keep talking. So I did. I told her all of it. How we'd met. How I'd felt. How I'd soon come to feel. How I'd stayed, like the coward that I was.

His betrayal, hiding my acceptance letter, shredding my passport, tearing up my birth certificate. How I'd gone home because I couldn't leave and then ran away from my parents in the middle of the night. How I turned up in London ready for a new chapter, a new adventure. But part of me was still afraid. Part of me thought I should go back. A part of me believed the things Easton had told me.

It all poured out of me. It didn't take long, because once I was on a roll, the words wouldn’t stop. I was desperate to purge it. Like I'd overindulged on alcohol. Something that was, in essence, poison to me. And it had to come out, one way or the other.

When I finally finished, she sat back. She made a few notes and then watched me closely. "Can I ask you a question, Abbie?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Do you love, Easton?"

"Of course, I love him. I mean, that’s what got me into this whole mess, I think."

She cocked her head. "Okay, well, what does love mean to you?"

I frowned at that. I had no idea how to answer. "Um, I don't know, that feeling where you know you belong to someone and how they make you feel, and like you could do anything. It's hard to quantify that. It’s not even about sex, or about you doing anything to be near that person.”

I paused and thought it through. None of those feelings described how I felt about Easton. Maybe in the early days, but lately? No. I'd mostly stayed to keep the peace. To stay safe.

She smiled at me then. "You're thinking it through now, aren't you?"

I nodded. "Um, I guess. Once I heard myself say it out loud, I guess that’s not love." The shame was quick to follow, punching me in the gut, making me want to bend over at the waist and ride out the pain. "I don't think I've loved him for a long time."

"And why don't you think you loved him?"