Vincent stiffened. A moment later, he said, “Sophia, I will make you become the person you used to be.”
In the days that followed, Vincent doted on her with a mad devotion. She walked barefoot on the beach; the next day, the entire coastline was covered in soft white sand flown in from the Maldives. She woke from a nightmare to find a small lamp on her nightstand, its light soft as the moon. Vincent sat by her bed, watching her, his eyes bloodshot.
This was a Vincent she had never seen before. Tender, obsessive, and unconditionally indulgent. For a moment, she was dazed. If only he had been like this before.
But there was no going back.
A week later, Sophia began a hunger strike.
“Not eating?” Vincent asked, holding a plate of fruit, his eyes dark. “Then I’ll feed you.” He put a cherry in his mouth, grabbed her chin, and kissed her.

“Don’t…” Sophia turned her head away. “Don’t touch me.”
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