The Price of His Control

, a scent I had once tried to convince myself was the smell of safety

ene from a man who likely hadn't cleaned his own bathroom in his life. I had accepted it because I thought I loved him. I thought h

th protocols, I would come home to his. I wasn't allowed to take the main elevator directly. I had to enter

p that left my skin dry and red. Then, I would put on a set of plain, grey sweatsuits he had approved, identical and stored in a sterile locker. Only then was I permi

s peace of mind. I told mys

wer. It was about stripping me down, not just of my clothes, but of my identity, of my connection to the outside world,

got sick, really sick, the doctors said she needed palliative care. A quiet, comfortable place to

ark. I be

or a little while. I'll take care of everything. I'll make

had suggested we raise

. "I can't have that kind of sickness in my home

ster's dying was

he ultra-rich. He said he would arrange for Emily to have a private suite there. "She'll get the best care,"

d. I was grateful. I though

ecame a bureaucratic nightma

new form, a new test

ah. It's for everyone's safety," Lisa would

were lost. We'll have to run it

ess. He wants a specialist from Switzerland to review he

ile a luxury suite in Mark's facility sat empty. I was working double shifts to cover her mounting b

d me aside. "Sarah, what's going on with that private facilit

e just shook his head, his eyes full o

oom, surrounded by strangers. She never got to feel the sun on her face from

even times. Each call went straight to voicemail

ies of photos. They were in Hawaii. Sunny beaches, cocktails, smiling faces. He was there with her entire family, including her father, Dr. Chen.

y to a luxury vacation. The same man who cited "contamination risk"

ome, was denied. But a lavish trip for his assistant'

er about his rules. It was never about his phobias. It was about who he val

im to my friends and family-it was all a joke. A pathetic, one-woman