Life went on as usual. It was like nothing had ever happened, like I never left. Like I hadn’t fallen in love with a mobster.
But the pain in my head would say otherwise.
It was strange how much my day felt like I was walking through a dream. A monotonous one. Wake up. Work. Repeat. The routine should give me comfort, I think, but instead, it gave me time to dwell on the ache I couldn’t quite shake. Leaving Roman was supposed to set me free, wasn't it? Yet every morning, the air felt a little colder, heavier, as if something essential was missing.
If I hadn’t gone and gotten myself tangled up with Roman, I would have never thought Stockholm syndrome was a real thing. After all, who would want to develop a psychological bond with their captor? It sounded totally insane.
For a week, I we
