My Girlfriend Handed Me a “Relationship Contract” — I Had No Idea How Far She Would Go

Part 2

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.

My mind was racing, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

I had never agreed to anything like that.

I had never told her I wouldn’t hang out with my best friend.

And then, the memory of that stupid red folder flashed in my mind.

The contract.

My fingers were trembling slightly as I typed out my response.

I asked her, as gently as I could, if she was actually being serious about that joke contract.

Her response was immediate and terrifying.

She told me she was dead serious.

I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck.

I stepped away from Tyler, moving into his narrow hallway, and typed back a firm refusal.

I told her I wasn’t going to follow those rules.

I explained that demanding money every three days and restricting my job prospects were completely outrageous demands.

I thought logic would snap her out of it.

I was wrong.

My phone immediately rang.

I answered it, putting it to my ear.

Megan started screaming at the top of her lungs.

The sheer volume of her voice made me yank the phone away from my face.

She accused me of breaking her trust.

She shrieked that I had violated our sacred agreement.

Her voice was so shrill and loud that Tyler leaned his head out of the living room, his eyes wide with concern.

I didn’t even have her on speakerphone, but he could hear every single word.

My heart was pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I quietly excused myself, giving Tyler a tight, apologetic nod.

I rushed out to my car and drove straight to her house.

I thought that seeing me in person would calm her down.

I thought we could just talk this out.

The moment I stepped through her front door, she launched into a tirade.

She paced back and forth across her living room, hurling insults at me.

She called me a selfish jerk.

She weaponized her past, screaming that she was the damaged one in the relationship and that I was supposed to follow her rules to keep her safe.

I just stood there in the entryway, completely paralyzed by shock.

I didn’t yell back.

I didn’t call her crazy.

I just stared at this woman who had completely transformed before my eyes.

Where was the sweet, quiet girl who would text me to make sure I got home safe?

She had vanished, replaced by someone who was now mocking my performance in the bedroom.

She sneered at me, throwing the fact that I was on unemployment in my face, calling me a lazy loser.

The barrage of cruelty finally snapped me out of my trance.

I found my voice and tried to establish a boundary.

I told her that the contract was absurd.

I told her that I could not be with her twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

Her anger instantly dissolved into hysterical sobbing.

She collapsed onto the floor, clutching her knees to her chest.

She wailed that she had finally started trusting me, and that I was just like all the other abusive men in her life.

I felt sick to my stomach.

I tried to offer a compromise, desperate to stop the tears.

I suggested dedicating every Sunday and Monday entirely to her, doing whatever she wanted, as long as it was within the realm of reality.

She refused to even listen.

She just kept crying and calling me a liar.

I eventually had to turn around and walk out the door, leaving her sobbing on the carpet.

How do I escape this web she’s spinning without destroying her completely?