“Each twisted preference designed to destabilise my sense of identity, to shape me into the wife he wanted me to be: compliant and isolated, uncertain and dependent. A wife who mirrored his interests, as though he were Pygmalion and I Galatea, carved from ivory, every sweep of my desires a product of his creation. A woman who didn’t dare leave the house for too long in case I missed his calls: those regular daily interactions designed to keep me at home, entirely reliant on him.”
