Page 30 of Between the Lines

There was this maturity about him I’d admired, but also…feareda little.

Like it would eventually lead him to realize I wasn’tactuallythe one for him.

It was part of why I’d insisted on keeping the relationship quiet—I didn’t want the scrutiny I knew would come my way from being with him. His reputation was so antithetical to mine—before I calmed down.

I was a wild child, drinking, partying, scamming the occasional rich man for “fun.”

Shaw…liked watching movies. Lazy days in bed, lunch and shopping in the suburbs where we wouldn’t be recognized, game nights with friends.

He was quiet, and in my eyes, so damncool.

I didn’t want to ruin him.

So…I ruined us.

It hurt to admit it, and he probably wouldn’t frame it that way—we actually called it mutual.

I wished I’d just gone to therapythen.

Instead, I spent most of the last year of the two-year relationship mired in insecurity-fueled distrust that had little to do with anything Shaw was actually doing. Everything to do with what hemightdo, since most other men would.

Especiallywhen as far as the public knew, he was single.

Any party he went to,of coursethere were women trying to shoot their shot.

Of course, he flirted back.

Maybe he went home with me, but he probably wanted to go with them.

He probably wanted something new.

Right?

Away shooting a movie with a beautiful co-star?

He was probably fucking her.

I mean…that was howwemet, so it wasn’t that far-fetched.

Right?

It was…hell, inside my head.

And admittedly, probably hell for him too, facing unfounded accusations, trying to prove he wasn’t what I expected, the frustration of not being trusted by the woman he loved.

Based on nothing except past experiences—my own and my friends—and fucked-up stories from other women on the internet.

“Fear and uncertainty are gifts, Elodie. Those two things are part of the defense mechanisms our brain employs to protect us. Physically, mentally, emotionally. But they can absolutely be curses as well, I’m afraid. When our lived experiences haven’t been as positive as they should, those two particular systems, they can go into overload. We see things as what they aren’t. We infuse meaning that isn’t there. We hear things that weren’t actually said. Because we expect the worst, instead of anticipating the best.”

God,I wished I’d heard that before I drove him to the point of saying, “I don’t think this is healthy for either of us.”

He was absolutely correct.

But back then, it just felt like exactly what I’d already been afraid of.

I couldn’t see it as the self-fulfilling prophecy that was so painfully obvious now.

“I’ve got a plate ready for you.”

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