I do feel sympathy for her. But maybe I’m a bad person, because I’m also caught up in my own problems, wondering if I’m hurtling down the same path as Freya.
Will I have to live the rest of my days running from the man I’m in love with? Will I have to spend the rest of my nights fighting my feelings for him, praying that one day they’ll just disappear?
“He wasn’t good to you,” I remind her—or maybe it’s myself that I’m reminding. “He hurt you, Freya. He abused you. Whenever you find yourself missing him, you need to remind yourself of that.”
“Is that what you’re doing now?”
I can hear irritation in her voice, but I don’t take it personally. “I’m trying,” I admit. “It’s hard. Mostly because… well, he never actually treated me badly. In fact, he was… kind.”
“Kind?” she repeats, sounding
