She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 952

"After that, I started doing it regularly," she continued, looking down at the faint, silver scars tracing her fingers. "I couldn't stop. Whenever the stress felt like it was going to make my head explode, I'd find a quiet place and use the sting of it to force myself to calm down. It wasn't hardcore self-harm. I never cut deep enough to need a hospital. I just… needed a little jolt of pain to remind myself I was still alive."

Morris remained silent, letting her speak.

"The sex addiction developed later, in college," she said. "I had a boyfriend—my first and only. When we broke up, he said I was too clingy. He told me I wasn't normal. That was around the time I realized that when I was having sex, my mind would go completely blank. The numbness, the rush of back-to-back climaxes… it was the only time I felt at peace. But I didn't want to sleep around with strangers, and I didn't want the mess of a relationship, so…"

She risked a quick glance at him before dropping her eyes again, her voice shrinking to a whisper. "So I started using toys. I'd crank them from the lowest setting to the absolute max. The borderline pain mixed with that intense climax… it grounds me."

The office was dead quiet.

Morris tapped his index finger lightly against the armrest of his chair.

Helena had no idea what was going through his head. She felt like she had just shredded whatever last shred of dignity she possessed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

Confessing something so sordid to her idol—the man she secretly harbored deep feelings for—meant he would probably never look at her with anything but pity or disgust again. But then again, she was never worthy of a man like him in the first place. If completely humiliating herself was the price of keeping her job, so be it.

"Have you ever tried to quit?" Morris asked.

Helena nodded. "I have. Loyce actually knows about it. She prescribed me some medication, told me to work out, try meditation. I tried all of it. The longest I went without relapsing was two months. But recently, with all the pressure from the new project, it started up again."

Morris stood up and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, turning his back to her. The moonlight spilled into the room, stretching his shadow long and dark across the floor, right to the tips of her shoes.

"You said earlier you would do *anything* to fix this," his voice floated back from the glass. "What exactly does 'anything' entail?"

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