Your Fault

“And that was why I had fallen in love with her. Any other girl without a backbone would have just given in to keep me happy. Noah wasn’t like that; if she wasn’t sure of something, it didn’t matter what you did to try and convince her—she was going to go on being true to herself.”

Through Nick’s internal monologue, the author establishes a central irony in their relationship dynamic. He identifies Noah’s independence as the quality he loves most, contrasting her with a hypothetical, submissive “other girl.” This characterization highlights the theme of The Search for Identity Within Consuming Love, as Nick’s professed admiration for her strength will later clash with his own controlling behaviors.

“Did I not have any say in that decision? Why the hell was I even sitting there? I let go of her hand. I was getting more and more pissed off. I had to go, or else I was going to let everything fly.”

During a family dinner where a trip is announced for Noah, Nick’s internal reaction reveals his deep-seated possessiveness. His rhetorical questions frame Noah’s autonomy as a personal slight, exposing his belief that he is entitled to control her life. The physical act of releasing her hand serves as a deliberate, punitive gesture that externalizes his anger and foreshadows the emotional withdrawal he will use to manipulate her.

“I hushed her with a kiss while my hand crept into the elastic of her waistband. ‘I don’t want you to go to Europe,’ I repeated, serious now, reaching inside. […] ‘Are you going to go?’ I asked her, rubbing her harder. ‘Yes…’ she said, and once more, I was angry. ‘Are you sure?’ I hissed as my hand moved faster.”

In this scene, the author juxtaposes intimacy with interrogation to demonstrate the toxic blend of desire and control in Nick and Noah’s relationship. Nick weaponizes sexual pleasure, escalating his physical actions in direct response to Noah’s verbal defiance, turning an intimate act into a power struggle. This moment starkly illustrates the theme of The Destructive Cycle of Jealousy and Control, where affection and coercion become indistinguishable.

“Living with Nicholas…it would be like a dream, it really would, seeing him every day, loving him every day, always feeling safe with him…‘I’m scared I won’t be what you expect,’ I admitted, my voice quavering.”

In response to Nick’s proposal that they live together, Noah’s internal thoughts reveal a sharp conflict between her desires and fears. The ellipsis creates a pause that separates her idealized fantasy of safety and love from the sudden, vocalized admission of her insecurity. This juxtaposition highlights her struggle with codependency, where the very person who represents safety is also the one whose expectations she fears she cannot meet due to her trauma. The language of safety ironically clashes with the reader’s knowledge of Nick’s volatility. Her quavering voice embodies the instability of her inner world, where desire and dread coexist, signaling the erosion of her self-trust.

“Never let a man take control of your soul because you never know what he’ll do with it: hold it and venerate it, or let it crumble to pieces in his hands.”

Speaking to Noah, Raffaella uses a metaphor that frames love as an act of surrendering one’s soul, revealing her own history with abuse. Her warning functions as foreshadowing, articulating the central tension of Noah’s relationship with Nick and establishing the theme of the search for identity within consuming love. The binary outcomes—veneration or destruction—leave no room for a healthy partnership, reflecting a worldview shaped by trauma.

“‘I should have told you,’ he added, ‘back when your girl got kidnapped and you sent the cops out, you know I walked right out the front door and got away? How is Noah, by the way?’ That was the last straw.”

This dialogue serves as the direct catalyst for Nick’s violent outburst, demonstrating how his protective instincts are intrinsically linked to his aggression. The antagonist, Cruz, strategically weaponizes Noah’s name and their shared traumatic past to provoke Nick. This moment highlights violence and physical fights as directly related to Nick’s possessiveness, portraying his violence not as random but as a reaction to perceived threats against Noah. By invoking Noah, Cruz exploits Nick’s greatest vulnerability: his conflation of love with possession. This moment foreshadows how even Nick’s protective violence will ultimately harm him.

“Noah’s my best friend, and over the course of this year, she’s told me things you might not even know. Either way, violence is something she just can’t deal with. Your face, your wounds…you know perfectly well what kind of memories they call up for her.”

Jenna’s dialogue provides an objective, external perspective on the central conflict, creating dramatic irony as Nick dismisses her warning. Her words confirm for the reader that Noah’s trauma is visible to others, even as Nick remains in denial about the true impact of his actions. This conversation highlights the disconnect between Nick’s belief that he protects Noah and the reality that his world actively harms her, reinforcing the theme of the lingering scars of past trauma.

“I knew what he was saying made sense, but I was paralyzed with fear. Windows, jumping…what that had meant for me in the past was devastating. I put my hands instinctively over my stomach, right where my scar lay.”

During a home invasion, Noah’s internal monologue explicitly connects a present danger to a past event, demonstrating how trauma resurfaces involuntarily. The fragmented syntax of “Windows, jumping…” mirrors her panicked, associative thought process. Her physical action of touching her stomach forges a direct link between her psychological state and the symbol of Noah’s scar, making the wound’s lingering impact tangible.

“I’m asking you to take a friend, a female friend, and avoid the spotlight. Noah will go with a date, too. We’ll pose like a family for the cameras […] and then everyone can go home and back to their normal lives.”

William Leister proposes this arrangement as a “peace treaty,” an ironic term for an act of control rooted in deceit. This plan forces Nick and Noah to perform a fiction for social and financial gain, prioritizing public image over their relationship’s reality. The request exemplifies the theme of the destructive cycle of jealousy and control, extending the pattern of manipulation from the romantic relationship to the parental one and setting the stage for the novel’s climactic conflict.

“Do we look like we’re about to be parents? My girlfriend’s eighteen and I’m twenty-two. Why don’t you think before you start drawing stupid conclusions?”

When a clerk mistakes them for expectant parents, Nick’s outburst reveals his deep-seated anxieties surrounding parenthood, which are rooted in his own traumatic family history. His hostile reaction, characterized by rhetorical questions and an accusatory tone, transforms a mundane interaction into a moment of significant character revelation. The stark contrast between his fury and Noah’s private, wistful thought of “Our baby…” highlights a fundamental, unspoken conflict in their relationship related to the lingering scars of past trauma.

“I’ve been in this world a lot longer than you, I’ve lived through many more experiences than you, and so before you judge me the way you already have, you should stop and think about the fact that you’re just a little girl, and the worst thing that’s probably ever happened to you is when they took you away from your home and moved you into a mansion in California.”

During a secret meeting, Nick’s estranged mother, Anabel, attempts to manipulate Noah into helping her. This speech employs dramatic irony, as the reader is aware of Noah’s profound trauma, rendering Anabel’s condescending assumption both cruel and ignorant. Anabel’s monologue establishes her as an antagonist, using dismissive language (“little girl”) to assert power and introducing a threat that functions as a key plot catalyst, adding external pressure to Nick and Noah’s fragile relationship.

“You’ve got me under your spell…I’m more yours than I am my own. I’ll do whatever you ask, whatever you want. I promise, babe.”

Following an intimate conversation about their families, Nick makes this declaration to Noah. His statement, “I’m more yours than I am my own,” serves as a definitive articulation of the theme of the search for identity within consuming love. The use of hyperbole illustrates the all-consuming nature of their bond, where personal identity is subsumed by the partnership. This moment of ultimate surrender, while framed as romantic, foreshadows the instability of a dynamic built on possession rather than individual strength.

“If it weren’t for your bullshit trauma, I’d leave you here so you’d finally learn to keep out of my goddamned business.”

After escaping the police post-race, Nick’s line weaponizes Noah’s deepest vulnerability, shattering the perception of him as her protector and violating the trust that underpins their relationship. The phrase “bullshit trauma” is a moment of profound verbal violence that directly engages the theme of the lingering scars of past trauma. The profanity marks a rupture in tone, signaling the disintegration of the protector persona he has cultivated and revealing the volatility beneath. This dialogue marks a critical turning point, demonstrating that their individual unresolved issues have become toxic to the relationship itself.

“‘Actually, I’m going to be living with Nicholas.’ I didn’t feel light-headed until silence overtook the table, interrupted by the clang of my mother’s silverware as she dropped it unexpectedly.”

At a tense family dinner, Noah’s declaration is a deliberate act of defiance against both parental disapproval and her own feelings of inadequacy. The simple, declarative statement functions as a public reclaiming of power, while the auditory imagery of the “clang of my mother’s silverware” punctuates the silence, signaling the explosive consequences of her assertion.

“When you’re tied too tightly to someone…it hurts when you break free, but it’s either that or you’re trapped forever. And I’m one of those who’s trapped forever.”

In this moment of confession at her father’s grave, Noah uses a metaphor of a constricting knot to articulate the complex nature of her trauma. Her statement reveals a sense of fatalism, framing her identity as intrinsically and permanently linked to the pain her father caused. This quote directly confronts the theme of the lingering scars of past trauma, illustrating how her past has shaped her perception of herself as someone incapable of achieving true emotional freedom. Her fatalistic conclusion, “I’m one of those who’s trapped forever,” reveals how trauma can convince survivors of inevitability, foreclosing the possibility of healing. The graveyard setting amplifies this sense of permanence, situating her identity as inextricably bound to death and loss.

“College or Nicholas. You decide.”

Delivered by Noah’s mother, this ultimatum presents the central conflict of Noah’s journey toward adulthood. The stark, binary choice forces her to confront her codependency on Nick and weigh it against her personal ambition and future independence. This line of dialogue crystallizes the theme of the search for identity within consuming love, making the struggle between selfhood and partnership an external, high-stakes decision.

“‘This isn’t about you,’ I said, hating the part of myself I was revealing, cursing my weakness. ‘When you’re not with me, I think of the worst things. […] It happens to me because I love you. The last person I loved as much as you I hate now, I always will, and I have this problem—I can’t help thinking of what she did to me.’”

During a fight with Noah, Nick reveals the traumatic source of his possessiveness, linking it directly to his mother’s abandonment. This moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability provides crucial insight into his character, reframing his controlling behavior as a manifestation of deep-seated fear rather than simple chauvinism. His confession demonstrates how both protagonists are driven by past trauma, which fuels the cycle of jealousy and mistrust in their relationship.

“‘A tattoo, Nicholas…that’s for life,’ I said with a knot in my throat. ‘You’re going to regret getting it. I know you are. What if one day it turns into a bad memory, a ghost that’s chasing you down?’”

Upon seeing that Nick has tattooed her handwriting onto his wrist, Noah reacts not with joy but with fear. Her response transforms the tattoo from a symbol of eternal love into a potential “ghost,” reflecting her anxiety about the relationship’s suffocating intensity and permanence. This reaction highlights her core conflict: While she craves Nick’s love, she is terrified by the inescapable bond it represents, fearing it will become another scar. Her knot in the throat underscores the choking, suffocating quality of permanence, suggesting that what Nick sees as devotion she interprets as a future scar, an omen of inevitable loss.

“Opening my eyes wide, I looked at the two scars on her wrist. In her eyes, I saw many of the things I saw in myself when I looked into the mirror. […] Briar smiled, pulled up her shirt, and showed me her ribs. In black ink, in beautiful calligraphy, I saw a message that touched my heart: Keep Breathing.”

This passage establishes Noah’s new roommate, Briar, as a character foil—another young woman physically marked by her past. The author juxtaposes Briar’s self-harm scars with her life-affirming tattoo to explore different responses to trauma. For Noah, this moment creates an immediate, unspoken bond, as she recognizes her own pain in Briar and sees a tangible symbol of resilience.

“Nicholas, without you, there is no Noah, and that’s not right. I can’t depend on you in that way because I’ll wind up losing myself…Don’t you see that?”

During an argument, Nick recalls Noah’s articulation of her core internal conflict. This quote is a direct statement on the theme of the search for identity within consuming love, showing Noah’s growing self-awareness. Her identity has become so enmeshed with Nick’s that she fears its complete erasure, defining the central psychological struggle of her character arc. The line establishes the high stakes of their dynamic: For Noah, staying with Nick risks the loss of her selfhood.

“You have to learn to swim on your own, Noah. Nicholas can’t always be your life preserver. Either you learn to swim, or the least thing that comes along might make you drown.”

In a therapy session, Noah’s psychologist, Michael, uses an extended metaphor to frame her relationship with Nick. This metaphor defines their codependency as a matter of survival, where Nick is a “life preserver” preventing Noah from learning to “swim” on her own. The metaphor powerfully illustrates the theme of the lingering scars of past trauma, suggesting that love alone is insufficient to heal her and that self-reliance is essential.

“Funny you should tell me that, when your mother was the one who left you alone at home with a man who nearly killed you while she was fucking my husband in a five-star hotel.”

At the Leister Enterprises gala, Nick’s mother, Anabel, delivers this cutting revelation to Noah. The line functions as the climax of the parental betrayal plotline, brutally recontextualizing the source of Noah’s lifelong trauma. By exposing the affair, Anabel shatters Noah’s understanding of her past, her mother’s motivations, and the attack that left her with her scar. This dialogue is the primary catalyst for Noah’s subsequent emotional breakdown.

“I felt strange; for a few seconds, I was waiting for that vertiginous feeling I always got when I kissed Noah; but there was nothing, just skin touching skin, and that made me even angrier.”

Following a confrontation with his parents, a furious Nick impulsively kisses his coworker, Sophia. His internal monologue reveals a profound contrast between the physical action and the complete absence of emotional or physical response. This moment confirms for the reader that his connection with Noah is unique and proves the sincerity of his devotion, even as his actions appear to betray it. The realization that he feels “nothing” underscores that his behavior is a self-destructive lashing out, born from trauma rather than a desire for another person.