“I stared at the pale suede stitching on the throw pillow and thought of all the ways I’d reshaped myself for him, for this relationship. I’d tried being softer. I’d tried being smaller. I had bent myself into the shape of his ideal woman until I forgot what I actually looked like. I had shaved the edges off my personality and filed my voice down to something gentle and agreeable, just so I wouldn’t take up too much room. And now he needed something softer? I couldn’t win a game where the rules changed every time I got close.”