Three Breakdowns A Year Was All I Was Allowed Chapter 07

A month later, Nathan attended a professional conference.

The speaker was Professor Whitmore.

He was the mentor Nathan respected most.

At the end of the talk, someone asked:

“If your partner relies on you heavily for emotional support, how do you help her become independent?”

Nathan lifted his head.

Professor Whitmore was silent for a few seconds.

“First, clarify one thing.”

“When you say independent, do you mean she can make her own decisions?”

“Or do you mean she has to end up making the same decisions you would?”

Professor Whitmore continued:

“Some people say they want to help their partners become independent.”

“Really, they’re just finding another way to demand obedience.”

“If she agrees with you, you call her mature.”

“If she doesn’t, you call her emotional.”

Afterward, for the first time, Nathan took the initiative and caught up with Professor Whitmore.

“Professor.”

“If someone keeps relying on cheap online companionship, will it only get worse?”

“You mean the $3.99 program?”

Nathan’s head snapped up.

Professor Whitmore smiled.

“I take shifts there, too.”

“It isn’t treatment.”

“We just give people someone to talk to.”

“Won’t that make them more dependent?”

“That depends on how you define dependence.”

Professor Whitmore asked:

“Does she simply do whatever that person tells her to do?”

Nathan was silent.

“Suppose she doesn’t.”

“Then she isn’t dependent on that person.”

“For the first time, she’s found someone who doesn’t immediately try to correct her.”

Nathan’s face slowly drained of color.

He said quietly:

“But I only wanted her to be better.”

“Nathan.”

“Listening to strangers is what you do best.”

“Why do you only want to give your wife answers once you get home?”

“And another thing.”

“What gives you the right to decide when another adult is allowed to be sad, when she can work, or

when she can leave?”

That night, he went back through all four years of our messages from the beginning.

[I’m having a hard day. Can I use one of my chances?]

[How many times does that make now?]

[I’ve finished crying. You don’t need to come home.]

[Mom’s surgery went well. I didn’t fall apart.]

Each message was more careful, more accommodating than the last.

Finally, he stopped at the day my brother died.

[Could I owe you a fourth time?]

He stared at the sentence for a long time.

Then he opened the bill from his practice.

Eighteen hundred dollars.

Beside it was the link to the cheap support chat.

When I’d had to pay that bill, I hadn’t even had $1,800.

All that time, he’d controlled the account my paychecks went into.

He got up to find the pawn ticket for the gold bracelet.

It wasn’t there.

Only then did he remember I’d already gotten it back.

Sophie knocked and came in.

“Nathan, I’m stuck on this part again.”

This time, he stared at the paper in her hand for a long time without moving.

Sophie froze.

“What’s wrong?”

He asked about the day my brother had come to the office.

“Did you really tell him there were things Claire simply wasn’t entitled to?”

Sophie’s expression changed immediately.

“I just said it without thinking…”

“Did you also tell him you were the most important person that day?”

Her eyes quickly reddened.

“Nathan, are you blaming me now?”

Nathan looked at her.

For the first time, he didn’t immediately comfort her.

“I’m just asking.”