Page 44 of I'll Keep Her Safe

“I know I was stupid for listening to him, but—”

“That’s not what I’m thinking,” Wyatt cuts in. “I’m thinkinghe’sthe stupid one. Anyone can see you’re an amazing cook.”

I huff a laugh, glancing down at my hands. “Thanks,” I murmur, but I want to tell him the full story. I want him to know how it got to that point, so maybe he’ll understand. “Kurt and I were high school sweethearts, back in Indiana. We got together at sixteen, and were together until a little over a year ago. But he wasn’t always so awful. In school he was really sweet, and it was his idea to move to the city for college. I was thrilled when he asked me to come with him, and so excited to go to culinary school.”

Wyatt gazes at me as I speak, the pizza forgotten. I know it’s such a little thing, but having his full attention feels significant. Like he’s really listening.

“But as I made new friends at school,” I continue, “it was almost like…”

“He felt threatened?” Wyatt offers, and I nod.

“Yes, exactly. That’s when it started. The guy who had always been so sweet to me became a different person. In hindsight, there were red flags earlier, but this is when I first noticed it. He started chipping away at my self-esteem with off-hand comments about the way I looked, the things I liked, my new friends. Then he got his fancy new job and the manipulation got so much worse. I think maybe he felt insecure because he wasn’t moving up the corporate ladder as fast as he thought he should.”

“He said something to me about how he was going to make partner at his firm?” Wyatt says, and I roll my eyes.

“He’s not. He talks a big game, but he’s full of shit. He only got a job because his dad knows someone at the company. I think that’s always bugged him, and the only way he could make himself feel powerful was by tearing me down.”

“How?” Wyatt asks, a deep V stamped between his brows.

I think of all the words Bailey used to describe Kurt’s behavior, and list them off on my fingers. “Gaslighting me to make me question myself, stonewalling me after we had a fight, guilt-tripping me when I was busy doing anything that didn’t involve him, then love-bombing me to win me back. It became really confusing, because sometimes he would be amazing, and other times… he was like a different person.”

There’s more too—the “breadcrumbing,” as Bailey called it, where he’d give me just enough affection to keep me invested, and the triangulation, where he’d openly text other women in front of me, as if to keep me on my toes. I hadn’t known there were specific words for this type of manipulative behavior, but Bailey was like an expert. If it hadn’t been for her, I might never have understood the extent of how Kurt was mistreating me.

And I might never have escaped.

“I’m lucky I had Bailey,” I add quietly. “The situation with Kurt happened so slowly over time that it wasn’t obvious to me at first. You know that analogy about the frog that’s boiled slowly in the pot, and he doesn’t feel the water get hotter until it’s too late?”

Wyatt nods.

“It was like that. But Bailey saw Kurt for who he was right away, and once she started pointing out his bad behavior, I couldn’t unsee it. It wasn’t easy to leave, because he was all I’d known since high school, and he always knew how to reel me back in, but Bailey helped me find the strength. I’ll be forever grateful to her for that.”

“God.” Wyatt drags both hands down his face, processing my words. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t great, but… it made me stronger, you know?” I lift my left wrist to show him my tattoo. “I got this last year to remind me of my strength. Have you ever heard that saying, ‘no mud, no lotus’?”

Wyatt shakes his head.

“It means you have to go through the shit to get the good stuff.”

“That’s very wise,” he murmurs, eyes moving over my face. “And so true.”

I nod, reaching for another slice of pizza. “Come on.” I nudge him with my elbow. “It’s getting cold.”

He exhales long and slow, picking up his abandoned slice, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s hard to eat this after what you’ve been cooking,” he admits at last.

I slide him a smile. “Thanks, but you don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it.” He’s not smiling when he looks at me. “You’re so talented with food, Poppy, and it seems like such a waste that you’re not doing that, especially since you’re so obviously passionate about it.”

I look at the pizza in my hand. “It’s too late,” I say with a shrug, and his brow furrows.

“Too late? You’re, what, twenty-five? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.” He swallows, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stick my nose in. I know you’ve just started your new marketing business and that’s great.”

“It is great,” I agree, but what I don’t say is how hollow it felt to work on it all week without Bailey. How it was nice to get a little money, and do it on my own terms, but it’s not marketing I spend my time thinking about. It’s food. Especially since visiting Wyatt’s vegetable patch. There were so many delicious looking things there that I could work with, and I haven’t felt that inspired in a long time.

I’ve never felt that way about marketing.

“It’s not too late,” Wyatt repeats, polishing off another slice of pizza. “But you need to do what’s right for you. Whatever that is, Kurt shouldn’t influence you.”

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