“I hate hurting him, but I just—I can’t let go, okay? He’s…I owe him my career. I owe him everything I am now.” He turned away to look out the window. “I went from being a poor nobody to a star footballer who makes two hundred thousand pounds a week. I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I shouldn’t need him anymore.” He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was full of resentment. “But I do. And I hate this—this emotional dependency and constant craving his attention and approval. I never depended on anyone emotionally until I met him—I never had anyone to depend on. I hate all these
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