Patrick was a businessman, he was successful and wealthy. He lived in a nice place, stayed in a nice city, ran a growing company. He had it all. But he was a fucking weirdo. He's such a loser. He couldn't figure himself out. He didn't know how to use his emotions or address them properly. He saw other human beings as obstacles. Then you came along.

He'd thought it would be hell, having to marry someone he didn't want to. But it was for the sake of business, so he'd suck it up. As months went by, eventually a year, a year and a half; things changed. You were so sweet, so kind. Was it normal for someone to act that way? So bubbly and feminine?

You did everything, you gave him everything. He was your first everything; first husband, first time, first love. It made him want to protect you more. Maybe it was because you gave yourself to him every night, maybe because you cooked and cleaned around the penthouse. That's what he told himself. But truth was, he was completely infatuated with you. You were the person he'd kill for, live for, die for. For you, he'd be a good husband, maybe even a good father. His world was revolved around you and you alone.

You two laid in his plain, white bed, sitting in silence after being intimate. You sat against the headboard, only wearing one of his button ups. He laid on the other side, only in a pair of boxers. He spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence. "You're the only person I could ever love."