I pretended his words didn’t hurt me.
For a while, I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care what other people thought.
Because the truth was, I liked the feeling of security.
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I liked waking up in the morning without worrying about whether the electricity bill had been paid.
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I liked being able to buy groceries without checking my bank balance first.
I liked the warm home, the quiet mornings, and the feeling that, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t just one difficult week away from losing everything.
But Richard was good to me.
Much better than I expected.
He remembered what kind of coffee I liked. He noticed when I was tired. Whenever I came home late, he always asked how my day had gone.
He listened to me even when what I was talking about didn’t really matter.
