Outgrowing Love

Late at night, inside a private room, my best friend, Faye, had been absentmindedly tracing the lines of someone’s abs, but she suddenly seemed to remember something.

She quickly pulled out her phone, checked the time, and asked cautiously, “Andy, you haven’t reported your whereabouts to Sean for almost three hours now. Aren’t you afraid he’ll get angry?”

Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, I couldn’t help but let out a self-deprecating smile.

Back when Sean and I had just started dating in university, he told me that because of his family history, he feared and hated betrayal more than anything. He wanted me to keep him updated on my whereabouts every day so he could feel at ease. I pitied him, so I chose to comply. Even if I were just stepping out of the dorm to buy daily necessities at the supermarket, I would tell him immediately.

At the time, I thought that by cooperating like this, I could slowly soothe his wounded, sensitive heart. However, the truth was, his suspicion and need for control only grew worse. Especially after we got married, he demanded that I report to him every hour, no matter what I was doing. He even required me to plan out the next day in advance, of where I would go, what I would do, and how long everything would take.

Once, I had an upset stomach and spent five extra minutes in the bathroom without informing him right away. He immediately became paranoid. He even pulled up the law firm’s surveillance footage to verify whether I was lying or had betrayed him. Yet, he held himself to a completely different standard.

No matter where he went or what he did, he never reported anything to me. Sometimes, if I casually asked about his plans, he would fly into a rage, accusing me of trying to control his life and saying I didn’t trust him or love him enough.

Looking back at it now, I found it ironic. I used to foolishly believe it was because he had been hurt too deeply, and that I simply hadn’t given him enough sense of security and trust. However, I see now that there was something wrong with him.

I suddenly lifted my glass and downed the red wine in one go, completely unfazed.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said. “We’re divorced. In a few days, the divorce certificate will be finalized. I have no obligation to care about his feelings anymore.”

Faye pinched her own cheek, wincing from the pain, and then threw her arms around me.

“This is amazing, Andy! You’ve finally come to your senses! I’ve disliked that b*st*rd Sean for a long time. To celebrate your escape from him, tonight is on me. Come on, cheers! To freedom!”

I clinked glasses with her.

Just as the sound of our glasses faded, a cold voice came from the doorway of the private room.

“Whose control are you trying to escape from?”