Every day I prayed for him to recover quickly and move in with me, far away from this devil. But over the course of more than a month, this desperate longing gradually eroded.
I couldn’t even tell anymore whether it was my body that had surrendered to him or my mind. In the end, during this twisted relationship that had lasted over a month, my defenses against him had weakened day by day. Instead, I had grown accustomed to his nightly invasions and possession, as if it were routine.
I was terrified of this horrifying adaptation, but I had no power to change it. He was like a virus, infiltrating my life—something I couldn’t shake off, something I sometimes even needed to survive.
My body responded quickly to his teasing, his movements syncing perfectly with mine, and the rhythm I
