?Chapter 5: The Way He Broke Her

                                        

                                              
ARIA POV
*Memories* 
She used to call it love.
Now, she knows better.
It started like most traps do with attention.
Ezra McCallum saw her before anyone else did. She was 18, barely out of high school, waitressing tables and dodging bills. He came in with a group of lawyers twice her age and tipped her like she was a secret he wanted to keep.
She didn't understand the warning signs back then.
The way he asked questions like he was filing them away.
The way his praise felt like permission.
"Smart girl," he'd said. "But you talk too much."
She thought he meant it sweetly.
He made her feel seen until she stopped acting the way he wanted.
"You're not like the girls I usually date," he said once, when she tried to speak up about something that bothered her.
"Is that a compliment?" she asked.
Ezra smiled without warmth. "Don't push it."
That night, he left her at the restaurant with the bill.
The next morning, he sent flowers and a note: You made me angry. Don't do it again.
She should've left then.
But apologies from charming men sound like promises.
And lonely girls sometimes mistake silence for peace.
Six months in, Aria had memorized the rules.
	•	Don't question where he goes at night.
	•	Don't bring up the bruises if he swears it was an accident.
	•	Don't talk to other men even if they're just being nice.
Especially not if Ezra was around.
He never yelled in public. That would be uncivilized.
But in private, he was a master of cutting deep without raising his voice.
"You're lucky I even let you in," he said once, when she'd asked if she could go back to school.
"Girls like you don't get second chances. Don't screw up your first."
He kept her close by isolating her  subtly, skillfully.
First, she lost her job.
Then, her friends.
Then, herself.
The apartment was his. The food was his. She became a guest in her own life.
And when she finally told him she was pregnant?
There was no joy. No fear. No reaction at all.
Just"You sure it's mine?"
She stared at him, stunned. "Of course I'm sure."
Ezra looked away, picked up his phone, and left the room.
She never saw him again.
What hurt most wasn't that he left.
It was that he acted like she had never mattered at all.
Like their months together, the blood and bruises and bending, were just wasted time.
Now, five months later she's stronger.
Barely.
But part of her still flinches when she sees his name. Still doubts herself in the quiet.
Because men like Ezra don't need fists to destroy you.
They just make you doubt the pieces of yourself that once held light.