Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 106065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
It was more understandable with Greer. He was one of the Founders of our community, and they took their responsibility for protecting their members very seriously. He and I were also friends. Not the type of friends who hung out in their spare time, but friends, nonetheless. Friends who chatted, friends who sent each other book recommendations because we happened to love the history of ancient Rome and ancient Greece. Friends who immediately understood each other’s Halloween outfits, like when he saw I’d arrived as a Roman slave mere weeks ago. Marcus hadn’t seen it. Greer had, and he’d let me call him Dominus.
We were friends who looked out for each other around the house in Mclean. He’d checked in on me every time I’d been tipsy at a party. And if he’d shown up introspective and broody, I’d run over to give him a hug.
Archie sat down on the bed and glanced back at me. “Did you know I was still with my ex when I met Greer?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know their story at all.
“This was years ago,” he said. “My boyfriend Angelo and I were a disaster together, but the road to realization took a long time. Things started out great. I really liked him, and I thought it was hot how he wanted me to himself all the time.”
Uh-oh.
“It made me feel ten feet tall when someone flirted with me and he got furious,” he went on. “And I believe we always bring a little bit of our last relationship into the next, especially if they’re closer together. So my last boyfriend before Angelo treated me like I was a chore. I was the one he called when his friends were busy.” He smiled ruefully. “Angelo was the breath of fresh air who wanted me all the time. I’d only been single a month when Angelo and I met, and I jumped all in. Every bit of attention he wanted to give me, I soaked up.”
I sensed where this was going. My previous relationships before Marcus had been good, though. But, nevertheless, I understood. What we craved, we wanted a limitless supply of. Even if too much of the good could wreck us in the end.
“Over time, I woke up and had to admit to myself that Angelo’s control issues were anything but sexy,” Archie said. “He was jealous and insecure, and I went from feeling treasured to feeling suffocated and constantly watched. But even then, it was a problem I chose to push aside because I had uni studies that took me overseas, and he traveled so much for work that we barely saw each other. The last two years were full-on long-distance and plagued by fights and manipulative digs.”
I flinched. This part, I knew too well.
I reached for my water and took a big gulp.
“Angelo and I had a conversation once about polyamory,” he mentioned. “I’d never reflected upon it before, and I thought it was an interesting idea. Not as an option for Angelo and me—I wouldn’t even have considered it—but it made me curious about my own nature. So this article that’d brought up the topic—I didn’t reject it the way Angelo would’ve hoped. And he took that as a sign. All of a sudden, he thought I was poly, and he’d call me up sometimes to make snide jokes that revealed his insecurities. ‘Have you met your second boyfriend yet, or are you on your third?’ And, ‘You didn’t call last night. Were you out with your poly squad?’”
“Ouch,” I mumbled.
“Mm.” He nodded. “This is how emotional abuse starts off as invisible, Corey. It’s difficult to see exactly what it is at first—and I didn’t. Instead, I made concessions. I made sure to stay at home at night so he wouldn’t worry I was with someone else. I sent him pictures to prove that I was alone. When he threw insults and accusations at me, I tried to calm him down and be understanding.”
I bobbed my head and glanced down at my lap.
Angelo wore Archie down.
“But then I got mean,” he told me, and I looked up again. “I was so hurt and angry that, instead of just breaking it off with him, I punished him. I ignored his calls. I ignored his texts. Sometimes for days—and when you live in different countries, that’s sort of all the communication you have.” He released a breath and scratched his jaw. He had the perfect amount of stubble to make him look both beautiful and ruggedly sexy. “Eventually, I decided I had to end our relationship. We were just hurting each other, and I was bitter as fuck. And weak. God, was I weak.” He side-eyed me for a few seconds. “That’s what manipulation does. You stop trusting yourself. You form an opinion and think, this is it, this is what I think. And then your partner says something that makes you doubt your entire existence.”