He Spent a Year Paying a Doctor to Write Down a Fragile, Unstable Version of Me That Didn’t Exist — So When He Finally Set Me Aside, the Whole World Would Believe I’d Simply Come Apart on My Own
Chapter 10 — The Messages
One afternoon Gabriel handed me a stack of paper: the deleted texts between Christian and Dr.
Lawson, recovered.
We need the record to show she’s not well in advance of the wedding, one read. Make the diagnosis stick — she’s started asking why she’s so tired. And Lawson’s reply: Already documented.
On paper she’s been fragile for months.
No one will question the fiancé who wants to protect her. And then, two days before I was checked into that clinic, the instruction that finished it: Get her admitted for “exhaustion.” Keep her rested and quiet.
Make it look like her own fragility, not our doing, and we control the story from there. I read them twice, and then I set them down, because my hands would not hold them steady.
