Page 40 of Miss Treated

I wanted to hear more, but I wouldn’t press her. While she was in the bathroom, I pushed the room service cart out into the hall, turned down the bed for her, and gathered a pillow and blanket to sleep on the couch.

She emerged from the bathroom while I was setting the blanket on the couch. “You don’t have to sleep there, Nic. It’s a big bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. We’re friends, right?”

“Of course. Also, I think this totally counts as me getting you into bed.”

She laughed out loud before settling down under the comforter.

I went to brush my teeth and returned to turn down the lights and set my alarm for the early morning.

“Hi,” she whispered, turning on her side to face me.

I flipped over to face her too. We were a foot apart, yet the intimacy of the moment was off the charts.

“In case I didn’t tell you, thank you for tonight. For what you said downstairs, and of course for telling Joel to leave. I appreciate you coming to the rescue.”

“I’m sure you had it handled, so I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t. That’s the thing. I didn’t have it handled. I absolutely hate the fact you witnessed it.”

“Witnessed what? You being strong in a tough situation?”

She huffed out a breath. “There’s nothing strong about me.”

“Bullshit. You left someone who mistreated you. I’d say that took plenty of strength.”

“I should’ve left him sooner.”

I hated the shame reflected in her words. “You left. It’s all that matters.”

“Thank you.”

Since we were talking about it, I tried to find out more. “How long were you together?”

“Over ten years. We started dating in junior high.”

That was a long freaking time. I had to rein in my unexpected jealousy. “When did you break up?”

“Six months ago. I left him after a fight. We’d been fighting a lot.”

No wonder she’d been caught off guard when I’d asked her out. She’d just come out of a relationship. “You indicated he made you feel small. How?”

“In junior high and through high school I’d say we were fine. Young love and all that. He was an escape for me from a lonely home life. Then senior year when I was accepted to Stanford and he wasn’t, he accused me of trying to sabotage the relationship. He said I’d had my father pull strings so I could get accepted over him. He couldn’t fathom me scoring better on my exams and getting into a school he couldn’t. First big red flag.”

“You went to NYU instead?”

“Yeah. He made me feel selfish for wanting to move to the other side of the country. So did my mother.” She blew out a long breath. I had a notion she was only now unraveling the real version of the story, not the one she’d believed for years.

“During college we moved in together, and things started to change. He started controlling me. In small ways at first. How he wanted me to wear my hair, never down; how he wanted me to dress, never showing any skin; how he preferred me to eat, never any carbs. He convinced me I was oversensitive to his criticisms. As if he was doing me the favor by looking out for me. Then whenever others were around, he’d love bomb me. To the outside world, he appeared to be the perfect boyfriend. Since everyone thought so, I downplayed what he was like behind closed doors. It’s like I became brainwashed or something.”

Thinking of what she’d been through made my voice thick. “Narcissists are good at making you believe it’s all in your head.”

“You’ve dealt with a narcissist?”

“Not directly, but my oldest brother’s ex-wife is one. He couldn’t do anything right in the marriage. Everything was always his fault. Still is. And since they share a daughter, the ex now tries to manipulate her.”