a P

ewed as the epitome of the charitable, devoted couple, wrapped in a narrative of shared trauma and unwavering love. Christian, the stea

ully constructed facade of victimhood. The thought was a fam

n that defied logic. Christian. My first love, my only

tormentor, her body a pale, naked blur against his. The air was thick

of my stomach. My world tilted on its axis, every s

ruelty, my stepmother' s indifference. He' d seen me, a small, scared girl, banished from the house after

m on my freezing skin. "Don't cry, Elia," he'd whispered, hi

r than me, had been there in an instant, cradling me, his eyes blazing with protective fury. "I'll always be here," he'd p

ed for Gidget, the scars she had left

e room as my palm connected with Gidget' s cheek. "Why, Gidget?" I' d screame

iron. "Elia, stop!" he'd yelled, his voice strained. He pulled me into a fierce

her body wracked with theatrical sobs. "Elia, how could you?" she'd wailed, he

ent, wounded doe, framed by tears and trembling

I collapsed, the weight of t