It took six years, but by 1996 I was sure she loved me. I was 99 percent certain of it. By the time we consummated our relationship in 1992, I was twenty-five and she was twenty-four. She had been terribly traumatized by my father, so I let her set the pace and, though it was glacial, she slowly learned that I could not and would not hurt her, nor could I let her go. She trusted me with her life.
Well I'm glad he never forced her but their "relationship" is so toxic and sad because it's clearly some form of stockholm's syndrome.
