Chapter 4The Burner Account: Seven Years of Lust, Zero Years of Lov

I took screenshots. I recorded the screen. I saved everything.

That evening, Wyatt came home with a bag of new lingerie and "toys."

He always had new tricks, and I was always the one struggling to keep up.

"I can't. I'm on my period."

Wyatt paused, then pressed his weight against me anyway.

"Then use your hands? Or your legs? I’ll be gentle, babe."

"No. I’m not in the mood."

After I rejected him a few more times, his face darkened.

He didn't blow up, but he was clearly annoyed.

He got me a heating pad and made me a cup of tea.

"Rest then, babe. I have to head to the office to handle something."

A friend once told me:

"Don't be ungrateful, Nora. A man only wants you that much if he loves you. He’s almost thirty and still acts like a horny teenager around you."

"Mine stays on the couch like a dead dog. The passion is long gone."

I used to believe that too.

Wyatt never hid his obsession with my body.

But I forgot that for men, love and lust can be two entirely different roads.

I asked myself:

If I were Wyatt, would I be this reckless and rough with the person I truly loved?

As he wrote on his burner account:

[You are the bright, untouchable moon. I dare not even touch you. To just have your light shine on me is enough of an honor.]

And me? Our first time was in a cheap motel with scratchy sheets and zero regard for my pain.

The difference between love and lust was a chasm I had finally seen.