Oliver’s chest tightened. It felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. He stared at Patricia, his voice unsteady. “You think I’m suffocating you?”
“Aren’t you?”
“You walked out right after we argued, didn’t say a thing. You left Johns and Marian to talk to me, turned everyone around us into your messengers, all asking me to call you, to apologize, to be the one who gives in. Oliver, can you honestly say you left without a single selfish thought?”
He couldn’t. Patricia knew it, deep down, without a doubt.
Oliver was a master at using people’s opinions to cut others down, even his own wife. She hadn’t seen it at first, but now it was all so clear. His love was intense and possessive. It was obsessive. It was stifling.
Maybe someone more naive would have found happiness in a marriage like this. After all, Oliver was attentive, generous, took care of everything from daily life to their nights together. He gave her emotional support, financial security, and had the looks and success to match.
But she was too aware, too clear about what was happening. That was the problem. If only she could be a little more clueless, maybe she’d be happier.


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