Chapter 5

The next few days blurred together in a haze of normalcy laced with quiet tension. Nick continued his gentle campaign with frightening patience. Small things — a lingering look, a soft command wrapped in affection, the way he would tilt my chin up and tell me to “keep your eyes on me” during intimate moments. Each time, I obeyed, and each time I felt a confusing mix of warmth and unease bloom inside me.

Tonight was no different.

We had just finished dinner when Nick took my hand and led me to the bedroom without a word. The lights were already dimmed. He undressed me slowly, reverently, then guided me onto the bed on my back. Instead of joining me immediately, he sat beside me, running his fingers lightly over my stomach.

“Tonight, I want you to keep your hands above your head,” he said softly. “Hold onto the headboard. Don’t let go unless I tell you to.”

My breath caught. It was such a small request, yet it made my heart race with old, buried fear.

I nodded anyway and raised my arms, gripping the wooden slats of the headboard. The position made me feel exposed, vulnerable in a way that stirred something deep and uncomfortable in my chest.

As Nick began touching me — slow, deliberate caresses that gradually turned more possessive — my mind started to drift.

I was twelve years old again.

Back in our old HDB flat in Toa Payoh. My father’s voice, loud and slurred from alcohol, echoing through the thin walls. My mother crying in the kitchen. The sound of a slap, then another. I had hidden under my blanket, hands pressed over my ears, trying to make myself as small as possible. When my father had burst into my room that night looking for my mother, I had frozen — arms pinned to my sides, too terrified to move or speak.