Vixen Manual - Karrine Steffans [98]
And then it happens again. It’s four in the morning and he’s sauntering through the front door smelling like that drunk uncle at the family reunion that everyone avoids and makes sure no kids are around. Oh, and he’s got yet another lame excuse, to boot! You go through the standard interrogation, asking where he’s been. My mother’s, he says, obviously backpedaling. But you were at his mother’s earlier and he wasn’t there, so you ask him again. “Where were you?” He stalls, stutters, sputters, then finally spits out, “Ralph and I were at Hooters watching the game.” That might actually be plausible, if you hadn’t been on the phone with Ralph’s wife earlier and she was busy taking care of his fever since he was in bed with the flu. Hmmm, you say to yourself. You already know he’s lying. Should you ask again? What the hell. Why not, if just for sport. So you try it again. “Where were you?” This time he’s got nothing, and during the brief-but-quiet standoff that ensues, you finally feel vindicated and triumphant. But wait! What’s happening? Suddenly he flips, turning the tables on you. You’re bugging him, he declares with outrage. You’re nagging him and causing him strife! He doesn’t need this! Nobody needs this kind of stress! And before you can utter a word in reply, he heads out the door.
You stand there, perplexed. This was supposed to be your moment, after all, the one you’d been planning for. This was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. You were going to pronounce this as the very last time you were putting up with his nonsense. You’d made up your mind. He was the one in the wrong, not you…wasn’t he? Wait a second. Could you be wrong? Maybe he was innocent for once, and your lashing out at him was unwarranted. Maybe…maybe…
Do you find yourself feeling confused? Welcome to the Matrix.
No, you realize after a moment. You weren’t wrong. You were right. You’re convinced of it. He’s a lying bastard! And now you’re livid, pacing around the house in absolute turmoil. You dial his mobile phone several times in rapid succession, but he doesn’t answer—then he turns it off completely—and you grow even more furious. Wherever he is, he’s got the leverage now. By the time the sun comes up, he’ll be somewhere in a deep sleep. You, however, will be wide-awake, exhausted, stressed out, and feeling guilty for having come at him that way. You should have handled it better, should have let him explain. He didn’t deserve to be attacked like that.
Stop it, girl. Stop it right now. You’re falling for the mind fuck. This is a trick!
Ever heard of reverse psychology? What he’s doing is straight out of a Psych 101 textbook, and you’re walking right into his trap. When he’s wrong, he’s wrong. He knows it and you know it. How you proceed, once you’re aware of this, is all about strategy—which you will need, because this is war.
A man who’s on the verge of being thrown out knows it. His sixth sense has already kicked in, even though he’s well aware that his bad behavior is what got him there in the first place. A smart manipulator knows how to play you, especially if he’s been able to get this move over on you in the past. He knows that if he can make your attack against him seem like your fault, it buys him more time, more advantage, more power, more everything. The key is not to let this happen. When he comes home late or seems to be lying, if you can’t get a straight answer from him that can be checked and double-checked, there’s no need for you to blow