On the other end, Ethan soothed me, his voice full of concern. I thought it would be enough just to vent. But the very next morning, he appeared in person—cake in one hand, flowers in the other.
I couldn’t even speak through the flood of tears. He simply opened his arms, and I ran straight into them.
"Why are you here?" I choked out.
He stroked my hair and smiled.
"Silly girl, I couldn’t leave you like that."
That moment left a permanent mark on my heart.
Every fight afterward, I would back down because of that memory.
But now, in the chat, Ethan had said:
"See? It’s because I traveled cross-country overnight to see her that she fell hopelessly in love with me. Whenever we argue, I can always remind her of that night, and she has no defense. Women are easy to sway—as long as you make them feel touched."
"Brilliant, man. Absolutely brilliant!"
My hands shook around the phone.
So this was the truth. What I thought was love was actually leverage he held over me.
When had it started? When had he changed?
We had been together seven years—through college, long-distance, and now, on the verge of marriage.
When did his love turn into manipulation?