âI⊠thought Iâd wait âtill I was turned to tell him,â he admitted. He knew R would be livid, and Malcolm was furious with himself sometimes for never telling, especially since he was sure Râs empathic skills had picked up something wrong, time and time again for years. But there were so many more reasons than simply Râs anger, to do with the self-loathing that Dorian had so deeply instilled in Malcolm⊠the feeling of being broken, the fact that all his shortcomings and faults as a partner had been strewn out in the open, and telling R would be to bring all those faults to attention, in case they made R want to hurt him too.Â
âThe better question is what didnât he do to me,â Malcolm murmured, words trembling as bad as anything. Even if R had been halfway across London, Malcolm was sure heâd hear his heartbeat. He could feel it thumping inside his ribcage. âWe were fine at the outset⊠But he got bored. I got busier with work, and he wanted my attention so he would hurt me, or lie to me about⊠anything. He used to humiliate me by telling me what heâd like me to do or wear, and then ask me what I was thinking when I did it⊠I became obsessed with trying to make him happy because he kept doing that, he kept knocking the bar of expectation higher and higher. He made me think Iâd said and done things that I hadnât, and when he found out about my medical history he tried to trigger dissociative episodes on fucking purpose, then heâd comfort me, blame it on work stress. He laced my cocaine, heâd decide some weeks that I was to go cold-turkey, no doctor, and heâd lock me in the fucking bathroomâŠâ Malcolm went on, like the opportunity to acknowledge the things that had been done opened a flood gate.
âEventually, he just⊠stopped. He stopped calling, he never came by, never answered his door, never turned up to work, and I went half mad because I didnât know what Iâd done, and I⊠felt awful for having lost him. I felt good, but I felt scared, because I thought I was missing something. That I was supposed t-to meet him someplace, o-or Iâd missed some call or email and that when he came back heâd⊠hurt me again. I checked all my emails and texts obsessively for months and months, and just when I was starting to get used to it, he would text me again. Thatâs why I thought he was here! Iâm getting comfortable, Iâm getting complacent, and that was the first nightmare Iâd had about him i-in m-m-months! IââÂ
Clamping his hand to his mouth, Malcolm shook his head, tears falling freely all over again as he brought wide eyes back to look at Aspen.Â