Every week, a segment of my book, “Husband, Liar, Sociopath: How He Deceived Me, Why I Fell for It & the Painful Lessons Learned,” will be featured here. To explore previous chapters, please refer to the links provided at the end of this post.
Chapter 4: Love at First Sight Is Possible… Just Ensure You’re Seeing Clearly
Chad was charming, attentive, and thoughtful. He took me to theater performances, cooked meals together, and we enjoyed long hikes and strolls. When our relationship progressed to physical intimacy, he was passionate yet gentle. I felt incredibly fortunate to have him in my life.
By the time our romance blossomed, Chad had already secured a contract for a graduate dormitory during his second year in business school. His living arrangement consisted of a small bedroom, a shared bathroom with others on his floor, and a communal lounge with a single TV. In contrast, I had a cozy apartment that I rented. He moved in with me without paying rent, as I convinced myself he couldn’t break his contract, and I had planned to cover the full rent myself anyway. Having sold his sports car to fund his business education, I even allowed him to use my car. Perhaps my inclination to give more than I received financially was an attempt to showcase my kindness, empathy, and the nurturing qualities I believed would make me an ideal partner and parent.
As time flew by, my days with Chad were filled with joint classes, collaborative studying, shared meals, gym visits, resume reviews, and job interview preparations. I admired his relaxed demeanor regarding business school compared to my own anxious approach. His intelligence, quick decision-making, and effortless leadership style commanded my respect. He balanced my intensity, and I was convinced of his love for me, as he expressed it frequently.
We took weekends to visit his family, and on another occasion, Chad met my parents and brother. He seemed reserved and fatigued during the introductions, attributing his tiredness to the demands of business school. Later, Chad confided that he preferred solitude as he didn’t connect with my intellectually curious brother, who tried to engage him in discussions on topics Chad found uninteresting.
Chad’s family background was complicated; his parents divorced during his high school years. His father struggled with alcoholism and failed to provide financial support to Chad and his siblings, compelling his mother, Linda, to restart her career as a paralegal. Ultimately, she married a successful attorney. Although her second husband passed away shortly after their marriage, he left her well-provided for in his will. While still needing to work part-time, she led a comfortable life. By the time Chad began his MBA, his father had achieved sobriety and was reintegrated into family events, attempting to rebuild relationships with his children. Despite their shared challenges, they seemed to have overcome personal difficulties and enjoyed each other’s company. I particularly admired Linda’s resilience, unwavering commitment to her children, and her capacity for forgiveness, which allowed her to include her ex-husband in family gatherings. She treated me with a straightforward kindness.
However, in hindsight, some moments in my relationship with Chad appeared peculiar. Not alarming enough to scream “he’s a dangerous sociopath, run for your life,” but enough to leave an impression. It’s only now, two decades later, that I recognize these instances for what they were—warning signs that, while easy to spot in retrospect, were elusive during the exhilarating rush of love. They were like tiny flags that needed to be more conspicuous, perhaps even fluorescent. Maybe having a friend jumping up and down, pointing them out would have been beneficial, but I was caught up in my love, blissfully unaware of sociopathic traits.
Some odd instances included his insistence that I stay up with him on New Year’s Eve, despite my illness, his reluctance to assist with my coursework when he had free time, and his minimal support after an accident involving my car. Each of these moments highlighted a conflict between our goals, even over trivial matters. They were pieces of a puzzle I believed would fit together, yet no matter how hard I tried, they refused to align. While my conscious mind dismissed them as trivial, a part of me sensed these “strange occurrences,” which I later termed “moments of weirdness,” and they lingered in my memory, awaiting clarity.
For a deeper understanding of the complexities of relationships with sociopaths and narcissists, consider exploring resources like Psychopaths and Love or the insightful article on Interview Magazine.
To further your knowledge, check out Out of the Fog, an authoritative site on this subject.