She was so conflicted. One minute she thought her best bet would be to lull him into believing she was accepting her existence with him until he dropped his guard and she was able to get away. The next she was shouting at him, saying things she knew would anger him but unable to stop herself. It was like she thought she might actually stay with him and marry him, so she felt the need to stand up for herself and fight for the things she believed in, like self-autonomy and birth control. But if she was going to escape, why would she consider what her life would be like with him? Why would she fight him for any small freedom she could get?

“I can read your thoughts in your eyes,” he said, his voice calmer, though he still looked like he might reach for her and strangle the life from her.

She nodded. “I never was any good at hiding my feelings.”

He took a step toward her and lifted his hand. She flinched away from him and he froze, slowly dropping his hand. “I suppose I’ve given you reason to be wary.” He lowered himself into one of the guest chairs and waved at her to take the one beside him. “Tell me what’s on your mind. Maybe we can find a way going forward that will ease both of us.” When she hesitated, he added, “I don’t want to cage you as I threatened, so let’s speak.”

It was the first time he tried to offer her compromise or a voice in their relationship. It felt like progress, which confused her even more. Was he doing this on purpose? Torturing her, shaking her up, then offering her crumbs so she’d fall deeper and deeper into his trap? She didn’t know, but she had to try to reason with him.

She slipped into the chair, careful to point her knees away so they didn’t touch him. She was still shaken up from his brutal ravishing, but she was even more shaken up by how much she enjoyed it. Her body felt soft and warm after being rocked by the intense orgasms he’d forced on her.

“I didn’t really mean what I said about aborting our baby.” She looked down at her lap where her fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress. “I hate having the choice to start a family taken away from me.” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please understand, I was raised to believe that my body belongs to me and that I’m the only one who should make decisions about it, including when to have children.”

He nodded and reached towards her. He did it slowly, so as not to startle her, sliding his hand over hers and clasping it lightly. She allowed the contact because she needed it. She needed his comfort.