“He was so cold at times. Everything was about keeping his lie going. All he thought about was ‘what-ifs.’ What if he had done this—then maybe he wouldn’t have this happening to him. What if he had done that, and maybe it wouldn’t have happened. If he’d eaten healthier. If he never drank, and he rarely drank anyway. If he’d only had a certain healthy drink. If he’d spent time with—I don’t even know. I thought at times he was trying to learn what he could do to prevent it from getting worse. But that wasn’t what he was doing. He was thinking back on his life, thinking back on what he could’ve done to have lived better. A more fulfilling life—that’s what he told me one time. He yelled at me that I didn’t fulfill him. That he didn’t want me. That he had never wanted me. That he had never been attracted to me, and he’d had to force himself to kiss me.”

I choked up, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth.

“Guys want it-girls,” he said. He refused to look at me, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re not an it-girl. You’re too nice. But every guy wants her, just ask them.”

My voice was hoarse. “He tried to break up with me so many times, but I never went. He broke me down, though. Little by little. And I don’t know if he did it on purpose, but the end result was that I was a shell. I had nothing in me to fight him on things, to insist we call his mother, to force him to go see the doctors, to say what was happening wasn’t normal. I just gave in. He threw temper tantrums. He told me how disappointed he was. And I took it.”

I managed to look up for a moment. “That was my mistake. I took it until I couldn’t stay in our house anymore. And once I walked out of the door, I couldn’t bring myself to go back. My body wouldn’t let me.”

“Jesus.”

“But I had to go back. By then he was dangerous to himself. He used to turn the oven on and leave it. He drank hot water once, not even stopping himself until he’d swallowed a good mouthful. He went a whole month forgetting to use soap to wash himself, or shampoo for his hair. He was using my facial cleanser.”

“What was the breaking point?” Reese asked.

I almost laughed. “It should’ve been when he beat the shit out of me, right? It wasn’t. No.”

I’d come down the stairs one night and there was a blizzard going on outside. Windchill was -25 degrees.

“He left the door open one time. I shut it, not thinking about it, and went back to bed.”