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.”

glasses. “Then, how do I find such a

on Miranda’s lips. “Fortunately… you don’t

rolled my eyes. “Aren doesn’t

And 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 my arms

talking about giving him a chance. That’s all.” She

Nonetheless, I needed to face him at

back to the penthouse tomorrow,”

going to ask me about you and Callan…” I took a deep breath.

nodded, approving my choice. “Thank

you

during the last two days. I wondered what kind of 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

I guessed it 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 had just finished putting on light

sighed and walked to the door. “Neil, I didn’t have to go up…”

a faint

wearing his usual suit but casual jeans and a black, fitted T-shirt. I

standing on the threshold and processing why

asked in

and curious,

me, his arm slightly brushing mine, his intoxicating perfume violating my calm heart and forcing it to race. He sat on the chair and tilted his head, gesturing at me to sit next to him. I rolled my eyes but obeyed him

want, Aren?” I asked, narrowing my eyes

into an uncomfortable grimace. “I shouldn’t have said that…

my arms as my annoyance

wryly and shrugged. “I don’t know. You reacted to him as if his presence