Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ

Therapy

1 did it. I told someone about my relationship with Callan. I had to fight off my embarrassment and guilt, but voicing it out freed me from the poisonous load that had been crushing me for a very long time. Yes, I let him manipulate me. Yes, I was the one who let Callan take control over me. And yes, I’d been struggling to forgive myself. I knew what was going on. I couldn’t use the excuse of temporary insanity because everything inside me screamed that this wasn’t right. Callan’s so-called love was highly toxic. Nonetheless, I ended up blaming myself for letting that man smash me like a bug.

When did I become so defenseless? It was the moment I decided that I was in love with him. He used that against me. He cut me off from all the friends I had at the university so that he could be the only person I talked to. He kept telling me that no one could ever love me as he

told me that I could only be happy with him and with no one else, and I believed him. I believed in his lie so deeply that his half-hearted “I’m sorry” was enough for me to forgive him that he raped me! I did it all to save our love, although it was more likely that it was merely my, one-sided feeling. I sacrificed a lot because I thought that compromise was unavoidable. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that I was the only one sacrificing anything.

I was ashamed of what I did and how I behaved around Callan. That girl, it wasn’t me. The truth was too hard for me to deal with alone and humiliating to tell… or at least that was what I thought for the last three years. Something within me decided that it was time to change that, and I chose Miranda, the person I barely knew, to listen to my story…

“It is not your fault, Cora. Do you understand me?” she said softly, crying along with me.

I nodded, smiling despite falling tears. It turned out that we had much more in common than I initially thought. We ordered pizza and prosecco and spent the rest of the day, drinking and talking about our past, messed-up relationships, and guys that had never grown enough to become men.

“I wonder if I didn’t enjoy sex with Callan because he didn’t love me,” I said, finishing my third glass of fizzy drink.

Miranda chuckled. “You’re kidding, right?” “No.” I shook my head, slightly alcoholish. “If he’d loved me, he would have cared enough to pleasure me.”

Miranda burst out laughing, which made her roll on the bed. “Do you know anything about good sex at all?!”

I stated with a lopsided smirk, “Yes and no. I’ve got a lot of theoretical knowledge. My experience involves one specimen, remember?”

Miranda sat up, straightening to a teacher-like pose. “My dear Cora, the guy doesn’t have to love you to make you feel good in bed. He needs to respect you… and he needs to have some skills or at least intuition. If he cares solely about his pleasure, then he shouldn’t call himself a

man.”

our glasses. “Then, how do

grin formed on Miranda’s lips. “Fortunately… you don’t need to look far. He is

doesn’t

believe me. Aren has a lot to offer.” She giggled. “So… do you think I should just forgive him for the fact that he didn’t tell me that Callan is his step-brother and everything he said to me later?” I asked, crossing

giving him a chance. That’s

didn’t do, Nonetheless, I needed to face him at some point. No matter how pissed I was at him, I was

will come back to

her hands, but then she glanced at me hesitantly. “You know that he is going to ask me about you and Callan…” I took a deep breath. “Tell him. Spare him the details, but I’m not sure if I can repeat that story in

nodded, approving my choice. “Thank you…

“Thank you

consequences it would bring. It terrified me, but it also made me hopeful and excited. I couldn’t sleep thinking about how to face Aren and what I should say to him, how to explain my point of view. I wanted to trust Miranda that giving Aren a second chance was the right thing to do. At the same time, I was scared of being betrayed again. I didn’t think I could handle being hurt by him once more, especially after baring

was time to go back. I messaged him that I would be ready in thirty minutes, and glided in swayed steps to the bathroom. I

door. “Neil, I didn’t have to go up…”

a faint smile curling

looked him up and down. He wasn’t wearing his usual suit but casual jeans and a black, fitted T-shirt. I

threshold and processing why

in?” he asked in an

curious,

sat on the chair and tilted his head, gesturing at me to sit next to him. I

you want, Aren?” I asked, narrowing

said

my arms as

smiled wryly and shrugged. “I don’t know. You reacted to him as