Chapter 1

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You sat in your bedroom in front of your computer, afraid to leave your house, paralyzed in place even though you knew what you had to do. You had to leave him. You couldn't do this anymore. Orson was no longer, or maybe had never really been, the man you thought you'd fallen in love with - the man you'd married.

***

It had started like any good movie romance does: attractive wealthy man meets girl who's still figuring herself out. The perfect pairing , everyone had awed and oooh-ed. Shy and protective Orson Krennic with his bubbly pet project.

"Oh, it's so nice that he's letting you quit your job so you can try for kids and take care of the household." As if it was a choice. Nowadays you were just glad you'd never gotten pregnant. One less tether to him.

"I wish somebody loved me like Orson loves you." Suffocating, all-encompassing, engulfing, overbearing love.

"He's so giving. Look at how he takes care of you." Takes care of my finances, my personal decisions, my relationships. Cuts me off slowly from my family and friends, so methodically, that they barely even realized it.

"You must feel so safe with him." Like a pretty bird in a too-small cage.

These were the things that people would say to you - friends and family and even strangers. And every time you would answer like so in your head, even if what you spoke out loud was quite different. By the time anyone noticed a change, if they noticed at all, he already had control of your finances, a tracker on your phone that alerted him when you left the house, and had taken away your job, your hobbies, your happiness.

And he was good. Damn good. You'd fallen for it after all, hadn't you? The perfect lies and the sweet touches, his whole personality catered to you and what you wanted to hear.

That is, until he was sure you were deep enough in his clutches that he could let his real self out. The monster that had always been lingering, too far out in the edges for you to really take note, but close enough that sometimes you found that you were afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone with him, afraid of what would be said when all of your guests were gone.

Things like: "your cunt isn't as tight as it used to be" or "you'll never find anyone as good as me, you're lucky I even keep you around" or "you'd be nothing if I hadn't taken you in".

Taken. You. In. As if you were some stray off the street. As if he hadn't stolen everything from you and made you a shell of who you used to be, just so he could go out and cheat again and again and again .

And god, you'd tried. You'd tried to gather proof of his infidelity, but he was just as careful there as he had been with you. He knew that without proof of him sleeping around that the prenup protected him. If you went off to find a lawyer to divorce him, he'd get everything and he'd win because you had nowhere to go. You'd come crawling back because you had next to no friends, no bank account or property to your name, no family that would take you in. You were alone. The perfect victim for his perfect crime.

All he wanted you for was back-up. An ego boost. A reminder that he owned something, that you were his property. Men - boys like him needed that. Needed something to control and call theirs. And you'd just been one of the many unfortunate souls to fall into the age old trap.

At one point you had convinced yourself that maybe you had loved him, but now you were sure that you had only loved the idea of him. His mask. He seldom showed that side of himself anymore, and he rarely apologized. It was always: you made me do this.

Sure, he didn't beat you or leave any marks, but the emotional turmoil and constant downhill battle was not worth it, especially when you held no love in your heart for the man. And he had come close - on nights where he was under the influence he would raise his hand at you or throw things in your direction, aim impared by his inebriation as he yelled, "Look at what you almost made me do! Why do you make me so angry?

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