Guardian Angel to Abuser: The Romance That Never Was ("friendship" with a narcissist)

Sorry for any errors. Automatic translation from my native language.
I just need to vent, because it's driving me crazy. I don't promise that I will reply.

Background:

I: 50-year-old man. I have a wife and two children. I have a happy marriage. Sometimes I don't feel appreciated. I like to help.

She (Eve): A woman under 50 who fled a war zone with her daughters. Her husband stayed abroad and was under the threat of being drafted into the army.

Story:

About two years ago, a certain woman and her daughter (Emma, 13 at the time) appeared at my orchestra meetings (twice a week). Since the orchestra meetings are about a 15–20 minute walk from the nearest train station, I offered to drive them by car. I always drove anyway, and the train station is near my house, and I was already regularly driving other orchestra participants home along the way. So, in line with my philosophy: "If you can help someone and it costs you nothing, then you must help".

So, I started giving them rides. Eve thanked me profusely, saying that she had never met anyone so kind, that people of her nationality were not so willing to help, and so on. I, of course, said that it was no problem, that one should simply help others – especially if it costs nothing.

In time, we became friends. Eve's second daughter (Olivia, 18) joined her mother and sister a few months later, and then I started driving only the daughters to the orchestra. Over time, it became a kind of ritual, because the girls would come to my house half an hour before the orchestra, I would treat them to cake (I always bought something), we drank tea or coffee, and for half an hour we discussed orchestra matters, as well as things about life, school, and music school. I printed missing sheet music, and I asked about various things – generally, I not only had the impression but was certain that my wife and I were the girls' friends.

Before that, we quite often met with Eve, Emma, and Olivia to play board games together at my house (3–4 times a month on weekends). We watched some movies and series – generally, my wife and I wanted the girls and their mother to have a distraction from thinking about the war and being in a foreign country. Eve sometimes brought her own baked goods and cakes to our house ; if there wasn't time, I ordered something from a restaurant, but my wife and I tried to cook dinner for everyone.

And for almost 2 years, Eve was "cooking" me. And very, very slowly – but I only understood this some time after we broke up.

Eve was almost always a victim. And she almost always needed help. And she was practically always innocent. But she almost never asked directly – it was enough for her to say that she was missing something, or that she had to do something but would have a problem... We started corresponding on WhatsApp (WA).

I started getting involved – nothing romantic, simply someone needed help, and I helped. I liked it and was praised for it. If help was needed with some documentation in my native language – I was there. Something needed translating – I was there. Some tax problems – I was there. Some difficult place to get to – I came to the rescue!

In time, Eve started writing that we – my wife and I – were her most beloved people. She also began to weave in that she loved me very much, that I was the ideal man, and so on. I kept explaining to her that friends simply help others – nothing major, after all. I initially thought to myself that this was just writing – you know how it is in messenger conversations – people exaggerate and hyperbolize a bit. So I ignored it, and I never wrote that I loved her or anything along those lines.

And she wrote that she had wanted to die many times, that she had thoughts of going to the front to save her compatriots. But it was the thought that there are such good people as me that stopped her, so I, again (the savior!), said that she must not think like that, that she has wonderful daughters who need to be raised, that they have a wonderful mother who will teach them about life. (Now, however, I think that the daughters have a mother who will destroy them).

And I told Eve that maybe it would be worth seeing a psychiatrist. But she had been to a psychiatrist ; she even did a survey that showed she had depression. But she would not seek treatment. Who needs therapists, doctors, or medicine, she said?! And she suggested that perhaps I could become her psychotherapist. I explained to her that I was honored... but that I lacked the competence, did not know enough, and could not do it because I might accidentally hurt her. I said I could only be a friend. It was really simple. But in the end, I behaved like a psychotherapist.

In time, we started writing to each other more and more. Eve somewhat distanced herself from my family, especially from my wife, while simultaneously strengthening her bond with me. "Nothing unusual," I thought – after all, I was interested in her problems, and my wife was tired of them. I also complained a bit to Eve about various things in life (problems with autism in my children, differences in parenting approaches with my wife, moving house – normal things that I often discussed with other very close friends), and Eve supported my point of view. That was nice. But now I see that my friends (and I myself) usually react differently – we console, but we consider solutions to problems, look for causes and consequences, try to explain the situation and the people involved, and try to see the situation from a different perspective. I attributed her support for my view to Eve's different nationality.

When she told me about her husband, who was probably cheating on her with a neighbor and who told Eve that Eve had destroyed his life (now I understand this), I tried to explain him away – that it was a long separation from his wife, the war, that people react differently to stress, that maybe nothing was lost, because Eve was, after all, a wonderful woman. I suggested that maybe he would still come to my country someday, and they would be a family again – the girls would get their father back, and she would get her husband. And she told me that he was no longer her husband, that she loved him but more like a friend. And that she understood him and allowed him to be with the neighbor.

Now I see that this was a play for an audience of one – for me. To show how good she was to her cheating husband. And that she was available. Except that I wasn't thinking that way then.

But now I am certain that the play started earlier. Even before we became friends. Before that, there was calibration and a kind of setting the scene.

Before I seriously started driving her daughter to the orchestra, Eve invited me for coffee at a café (guess who paid; who usually, practically always paid and even felt happy about it). With some difficulty because she didn't know my language well yet, and I don't know hers at all, she told me about Igor. Igor is her compatriot. Igor was friends with Eve. Igor also plays in my orchestra. I didn't delve into the depth of their relationship – it was completely irrelevant to me.

But Eve told me in secret (!) that she really cared that Emma should not have contact with Igor. I asked if he had done anything to them, but she explained in a rather vague way that no, but simply she – as a mother – would feel safer if I were the one driving Emma to the orchestra. The most important thing for Eve was that Igor should not have contact with her daughter (then 13 years old). Of course, Eve was very sad and serious, she said something about him having exploited them, but I didn't ask further because of the language barrier and because we didn't know each other well yet. But the thought that Igor was somehow dangerous to a 13-year-old girl was sown, and I unconsciously became her daughter's guardian.

Of course, Eve strongly asked me not to tell anyone about it because it was a shameful and painful matter (which planted an extra thought in my head – did it in yours, too?). So I didn't tell anyone. Not even my wife.

Now I see that this was the setup for our entire acquaintance – secrets, a test of my loyalty to Eve and to... my wife. An exam that I failed as a husband, but acquaintances and friends tell me many different things that I don't tell my wife later (I don't like telling the same story to the same people multiple times, so generally I rarely tell any life stories), so I saw absolutely nothing strange in it. My wife also later concluded that it was nothing unusual. Guardian – I simply drove Emma and looked after her well-being as much as a slowly befriending stranger could.

I sometimes checked if Igor was making any strange moves toward Emma, but I noticed nothing. After knowing her for a long time, I asked Emma in the car if Igor had done anything to her (casually, when we were talking about people in the orchestra), but she replied that absolutely nothing... so I concluded that I wouldn't talk about it, because either he did nothing, or it was too painful for a 13-14-year-old. However, later, after breaking off the acquaintance – when my wife and I were thinking about Eve's various behaviors – my wife told me that Emma and Eve had mentioned something about Igor to her at the beginning of the acquaintance. Emma said something like Igor had hurt her mother (but my wife didn't ask further either, because it seemed like a painful topic).

So I became the informal guardian of Emma, and when Olivia arrived, I became the informal guardian of both girls, although because Olivia was older, we knew her for a shorter time, she had been in the war zone longer and clearly had PTSD, she was more distant from us.

I drove them to the orchestra, to concerts, and I also came to their concerts at the music school. As I wrote, we often played board games together, we went to the cinema (with my wife and daughter) – generally, Eve, Emma, and Olivia became family friends.

To give you an idea of how it looked – they lived about an hour away from us by public transport, but by car, I could take them home in about 20 minutes. So most often, I drove them home after our meetings (around 10–12 pm).

Eve usually said something like, "Oh... we have to go back now, what time is the train?" – and I, usually seeing that Emma still wanted to stay, said, "Relax – I'll drive you, we can play some more". To which Eve replied, "Really? Well, let's play. But no, you don't have to drive us". It would get to 11 pm, and I would say, "Of course, I have to drive you – you don't have to take the train for so long when you can be home in 20 minutes". And then Eve would make a face as if she didn't deserve it and said with her eyes downcast, "Okay".

And it was like that with almost everything. With food ("We don't deserve it"). The cinema ("But why waste time on us?"). Games ("But are we not bothering you?"). Gifts ("Thank you, but you shouldn't have! This is too much!"). Driving to concerts ("Can you really manage that?"). At some point, I simply suggested various things myself before Eve had a chance to say she had a problem with something – I simply guessed what she needed. And when we parted ways, Eve wrote to me, "But I never asked you for anything" – and, in a way... she was almost right. Because she did ask for various things many times – starting with protecting Emma from Igor.

Once, I was driving her home – I don't remember why we were alone – but it was still early in the acquaintance. We talked about her situation. She asked me if I was sure that my wife was the one. "Of course, I'm sure," I replied to her. "And even if I sometimes had some doubts after a marital argument, after analysis, it always turned out that my wife is the best, even the ideal person who could have happened to me in life". And I don't know if that answer became a challenge for Eve to overcome.

We gave her various gifts. For example, she received books from me because she mentioned being interested in a certain topic – so I bought her a book that developed that topic in my language and was written simply, like for children. My thought was that Eve would not only deepen the subject but also get to know my language better. I also bought her another book – very popular literature that is simple to read and popular worldwide. Eve received the books, thanked me (Oh my God! Eve was excellent at thanking! I even told her to stop because she was exaggerating with her thanks – later I found out that she "thanked us for everything"), and I never heard about those books again.

Generally, it was like that with almost all the gifts. She received them, acted coy, took them, thanked me, and then never mentioned them again. Of course, how could it not be (!), again (!), I decided that this was a difference in nationality. Because when I receive a gift, I will mention it later, saying it's great, that I liked it, that it helped me, and so on. If I get a book, I will talk about it with the giver after reading it.

I'll quickly move to the stage of tightening our acquaintance. Messages on the messenger became more personal. Eve liked the same movies as me, similar books, similar music, similar food, similar morning routines. A yellow alert went off for me. But it immediately turned off because it seemed that she really did know these movies and liked similar things. How could I even think she was making something up?! And I felt some guilt because of it.

Eve wrote to me about suicidal thoughts, that I was the person who saved her, that she needed me to live like air (literally). And I tried to be at her beck and call. Because if I wasn't, then... I felt guilty.

I always tried to approach her complaining pragmatically, explain to her that she needed professional help, and I ignored her advances and – now I know this – pretended to myself that maybe people from her country were just like that, maybe she was just that expressive (?). But of course, it was nice that I was helping so much. More nice emoticons, hearts, etc., started appearing. But I exchanged such emoticons with other acquaintances too, so I saw nothing strange in it.

When she returned from her country, I came to pick her up at the station, because she was hungry after the long journey, she was tired, and she had a heavy suitcase – a car ride was more convenient for her than taking a bus or tram (and if I can help with something... you understand). And I could give her something to eat as support, say hello from my wife, and talk about the trip. About 3 times, I took her to the train when she was going to her country – while I was there, I bought something for her and her husband – something to eat, something to drink. A nice gesture. Friends do that, right? Especially when someone is going to a war zone. I hugged her goodbye (nothing unusual, I hug friends when they are sad and need it).

But even then, some lights started flashing for me when she, for example, mentioned my first such drop-off as if it were some important date. She wrote on the messenger that this day and that day was so important to her. Alarm... yellow light!. But I quickly extinguished it – again, I concluded that she was just like that. Nothing to worry about. Nationality.

Then the problem with Eve's husband appeared. He received a summons to the front – for an untrained man, this practically means a death sentence. Eve was sad, and her younger daughter, Emma, hadn't seen her father (Olivia came from her father to her mother a few months earlier, but Emma hadn't seen her father for almost 2 years). Maybe she would never see him again. Sadness. Despair. So I started wondering how to help her. She didn't have money for a ticket – we would lend it (a joint decision with my wife). I received information that there were no return tickets for a specific date – all sold out, and she wouldn't have a way to return to my country with her daughter. So I started looking for other possibilities, trains to other cities in my country. And I found some. We lent the money for the ticket.

But the train returned late, and then it was unclear how to get back to our city. So I suggested that I would go to pick them up (4 hours drive one way) and that it was no problem, and I wouldn't be tired because my wife would also be with me, so we could manage easily.

And this was the period when, discussing all this, Eve and I met more often. At one of the meetings, I mentioned to her that I couldn't meet with her so often because I didn't want my wife to perceive her as a rival. That I cared about them being our friends. That I didn't want any strange situations. I just wanted everything to be obvious. And yes, Eve confirmed that she understood. That, of course, there was nothing between us, no innuendo. And do you know what I found out after we broke up? That since I was saying that even then, I was thinking about a romance, and that's what I wanted.

Just so you know what happened – at one of our meetings, Eve was sad and said that my wife probably knew that we were meeting ("Okay," I said, "Nothing bad is happening, so there is nothing to hide. Whether she knows or not doesn't matter anyway").

We were sitting on a park bench. Eve mentioned that she was sad, thinking about death, that her childhood was terrible, and that her father beat her for no reason. And she sometimes wanted a hug, but my wife wouldn't allow it. But I did allow it – and I comforted her and hugged her as a father hugs a child. I held her hand and said that everything was okay. And that it would be okay.

Later (a few days before the planned trip with Emma to her country) – when I was returning home alone late in the evening from a meeting with friends (around 11 pm) – I asked her if she would like me to come to her. She did. Very much. Oh, how much she wanted me to come. I came. We stood and talked for a bit, and we hugged. That was the first time she kissed me on the neck. To this day, for some reason, we are both pretending that this didn't happen (I never discussed it with Eve, nor with my wife).

I had hellishly mixed feelings then, but the thought that she was going to her husband, who might die soon, that her younger daughter might see her father for the last time, somehow didn't allow me to intervene, so I hugged her and pretended that nothing was happening. I am ashamed of it even now, and I still don't fully understand my behavior. Eve later spitefully called this "night meetings that your wife doesn't know about" (but I finally told my wife about it, omitting the part about the kissing).

Then I met Eve twice more in a café, where we also hugged... and she also kissed me on the neck. And then, a moment earlier, I had told her that I cared about our friendship, that I didn't want to ruin anything between us, that I didn't want to take away the friendship that my wife and my whole family had for her. And her tears were running down her cheeks. Sad. She needed saving. And after that last meeting, my wife intervened.

After the meeting, Eve received a message on the messenger from my wife, asking what my wife was supposed to think about Eve meeting with her husband so often? How do I know about this? Do you think it was from my wife? I found out from my wife, too, but I found out from Eve first. Eve sent me a screenshot of the question from my wife. I don't know why she sent it to me, but at that moment, it triggered in me the reaction to save my own ass, Eve's ass, and an unwillingness to hurt my wife – I hadn't told my wife about so many things: the hugging, the hand-holding, and certainly not the kissing.

What to do? How to react? How to soothe the situation so that no one suffered? So I asked her not to reply to my wife right away. But Eve replied. She replied in such a way (my wife showed me) that an outsider might conclude that nothing was happening, but my wife read between the lines that Eve wasn't telling the whole truth, that her "nothing is happening between me and your husband" meant something else.

At home, I had to explain what was going on. And here I behaved like an jerk, but an jerk who knows his wife, an jerk who knows what to do and how much information to give his wife so as not to ruin the marriage because of some Eve.

I took the blame, stating that I must have done something that Eve interpreted ambiguously, that I must have behaved inappropriately, that she misinterpreted it, that it was absolutely not Eve's fault because she was a victim, she was poor, she had a war in her home country, she had no loved ones, so surely she did nothing wrong. That she was my friend. And I wrote the same to Eve – "You are not to blame, I hurt you," and so on. So instead of telling my wife everything, I provided it in the right amount for her to digest.

And here is the biggest betrayal I committed (yes, I finally told my wife about it) : I forwarded a part of the correspondence with my wife on the messenger to Eve to show her that my wife was in "guilt-finding mode" and that it wouldn't go well if Eve argued with her, because whatever Eve wrote, my wife would interpret it as if Eve was to blame. Why did I do this? Because Eve had been sending me the correspondence with my wife, so this was just a continuation of what she started. Silly me! It was simple: Eve was my friend whom I didn't want to lose. Someone I could trust, after all. I wanted to have both a wife and a friend.

We were connected. When I asked her earlier what she wanted from me, she didn't answer but asked, "And what do you want from me?" – I said then that I would like her to be happy, that her life would turn out as well as possible, that we would know each other for as long as possible, and that we could gain as much as possible from our joint acquaintance, and that I wanted to be a witness to that. A witness to her husband returning. A witness to the end of the war. Fuck! After a while, I see that I probably wanted to be some kind of fucking savior! But she needed it so much... and I could give it to her.

And when I already felt that something was wrong, after my wife's intervention, I asked, "Eve – what do you really want from me?". She never wrote an answer. Instead, she wrote, "What do I want? And your late-night visits to me that your wife doesn't know about, and holding hands, and hugging? What did you want from me?" – absolute guilt and shame on my part.

When everything started to fall apart, strange messages appeared from Eve. She wrote that she was worried about her daughters and whether my wife might reveal something to them. The point was that Eve hadn't told the girls that their father had received a military summons – in our opinion, she should have told them ; in her opinion (and supposedly her husband's opinion), they shouldn't talk about it because it would break the girls.

She wrote that I should delete the conversations on the messengers (we used WhatsApp and Telegram – the latter was our main messenger because it has live translation), because their content would break my wife's heart, and Eve didn't want my wife to suffer. I wrote that there was nothing terrible there, after all, but of course, I started to wonder and... I started deleting the things on WhatsApp that pointed to Eve's guilt – some content about love for us and for me that I ignored (meaning I was also guilty, right?). I had this feeling that my wife would be suspicious, although we never looked at each other's private messages. But it was a feeling that Eve had been fueling for some time ("She's definitely watching our conversations...! You'll hate me someday. You don't want to know my darker side. I know how this will end". And I replied, "Eve, you don't have a darker side, you are good, etc., nothing can go wrong, because nothing happened, we didn't do anything wrong").

And guess what? It turned out (the day after my wife started asking Eve what was going on) that they couldn't go to her husband – Emma's passport was invalid! What a strange coincidence! Eve wrote that Emma was suffering, crying because she was prepared to see her father, and here was such misfortune! Eve told me that she would immediately return the money she had borrowed from us for the ticket. I told her, "Hey, Eve, but you understand that you didn't have the money, and that's why you borrowed from us, that they won't refund you for the ticket (that's what she told me), so if you return the money to us right away, it will be suspicious". "Wait at least a week". But she returned the money anyway. And what happened? My wife concluded that it was suspicious. My wife didn't believe in the invalid passport. And she stopped believing that the husband was going to the army. I finally did, too. But when she corresponded with Eve, my wife didn't tell her this ; she was very polite, she didn't want to hurt her. When my wife asked for details, Eve wrote to her that it was very difficult for her now, that she felt terrible... and she ended the conversation with that. She was a victim again – this time of an unfortunate coincidence.

One day, Eve wrote to me that the conversations on Telegram had disappeared. Indeed! They were gone! She wrote that those conversations were our treasure, that they were such friendly conversations, that it was a great pity that they were gone (and yet she had previously written that it would break my wife's heart). I wasn't too worried about it ; after all, they were just conversations, and what normal person keeps such things and why? Besides, she herself suggested that I delete them, so where was the problem? I assumed that maybe she had clicked something and deleted them (she always showed that she was not savvy with computers and phones – I, of course, helped her with various IT things, I'm the best at it, and so on).

But a few weeks later, she sent me a screenshot of those deleted conversations. Conversations about how I wrote to her that she didn't have to worry that we knew her husband was going to the army – that we wouldn't tell her daughters anything. It wasn't a screenshot from a phone, but (as I checked later) a screenshot from a Telegram backup made on a computer. She tried to convince me that she had recovered the last few days of our conversations thanks to an IT friend from some other phone, but technically, this is impossible – messages immediately disappear from every Telegram instance connected to the internet. And this was a conversation from a few weeks ago, from a computer, from a backup, and not from a few days ago or a phone.

That's when I became certain that she was lying. And I started to wonder if this was her only deception, or the tip of the iceberg?

I saw on Telegram that she was writing texts like, "Does your wife realize that..." but I didn't show that I had read it – I ignored it. Then the messages would change to questions about whether everything was okay? Then I wrote that it was okay, and I tried to keep the conversation going, but I already knew that I was talking to someone who was deceiving me.

I have shared playlists of songs we like with various acquaintances and friends. We did something similar with Eve – she added her songs, and I added mine. After some time, I realized that she was adding songs about friendship, then about love, then about desire, and so on. The first song that initiated these playlists was about friendship, and it was a song she gave me in the context of, "I'm going to my country. Maybe I won't come back because I'm thinking about staying there and going to the front". So, it was a song that evoked feelings of longing and loss in me. I threw various songs into that playlist – you know, there are a lot of songs about love – so some of those ended up there too. But Eve's songs were always about love, desire, and so on.

And after we broke up, I looked at how many times the playlist had been listened to. It turned out that she wasn't listening to it. For 2 or 3 weeks, the play counter didn't change (and I specifically didn't listen to the playlist to check). When I deleted the playlist, I received a message asking how I could delete our shared songs that she liked so much, without notifying Eve and without contacting her, and what did I imagine?! I wrote that I deleted them because I saw them in a different light, and I didn't want her to interpret them ambiguously. She replied that in that case, I shouldn't create such ambiguities. I did not write to her on Telegram again. This was the last straw. I didn't want to participate in a game where it turned out that no matter what I did or would do, I was to blame. She finally completely deleted our chat on Telegram.

But I wrote on WhatsApp. A few months earlier, Eve wrote to me about Igor, that he had called her and she was distraught because he had some grievances against her. What were they? Well, he sent her some indecent photos. I asked what kind? Well, it wasn't important anymore because she had deleted them. And that he asked her why Emma wasn't saying "hello" to him. And that an alarm goes off for Eve from such people, because she had survived two attempted rapes once. So Eve was a victim again, I sympathized with her, I wondered what was going on, because there were ambiguities again. But she was an adult, so I didn't press her for details. And I knew, because I saw at orchestra meetings, that Igor was not dangerous to Emma or other children. But I didn't ask further. I sympathized.

After I stopped writing to her, I started wondering if maybe she wanted to blackmail me with something? But Eve? Impossible! Then I started looking for some external reason – maybe someone told her to act that way? Maybe she genuinely liked me, but someone told her to play available so that I would fall for it, and then they could blackmail me? Or maybe her husband told her to do it (she mentioned something during our acquaintance about being tracked by phone)?

I absolutely didn't want to believe that Eve was like that. Maybe also because I believed until the end that she was sincere and good? I was constantly looking for an explanation outside of her. Or maybe it was because I would look like a fool who was tricked by praise, and I let myself be sold for it? I am wondering and I think that at first, I thought more about the blackmail because I wanted to protect her (or maybe even more, her image in my eyes), and then, as I slowly opened my eyes, it was because I didn't want to believe that I was such an idiot.

I called Igor to ask about that conversation with Eve – he explained to me that they already knew each other in their country. He taught Emma how to play an instrument, and at some point – already in my country – they stopped being friends, and he didn't know why. And then Emma stopped saying "hello" to him, and he had to call Eve to find out what was going on. And he didn't find out. Although today I think he didn't tell me everything, but that's understandable – he himself didn't know how much he could trust me then.

Later, he approached me personally and said, "I see the girls are not answering you". I then told him about Eve's setup, about how she had suggested a year earlier that he was dangerous to a 13-year-old girl. And about what I thought then. He was genuinely in shock – not because I thought that, but because Eve had set up the conversation in such a way that such a thought would occur to me. He spent his time on her daughter for free, helped buy an instrument much cheaper, and introduced her to the orchestra. And he received... punishment for it. Together, we concluded that Eve was crazy. And I started to wonder if she had some personality disorders. Because I already saw that Eve was the victim type who looks for a savior.

After the break-up, Eve wrote to me on WhatsApp in a formal tone that her daughters were practically adults now and that I didn't have to drive them. That they understood everything. The girls told me that now they could walk together, I didn't have to drive them, that it was their time to be sisters, that it would connect them better. But as soon as someone else from the orchestra was available to give them a ride, they took the opportunity.

Since I knew that Emma and Olivia and I would be sharing time at the orchestra, and it would be an awkward situation, I decided that as a family friend, I could talk to them. I was preparing for this for a few weeks – I wanted to be as gentle as possible, I didn't want to accuse anyone. In the end, I still messed up such a trivial thing. LOL. I told them that their mother and I had different approaches to friendship and because of that, we decided to part ways. That I tried very hard to help, and we met for coffee to discuss various things. Olivia asked what coffee? How did you meet? Well, I said that we normally discussed, for example, Emma's trip to her father so I could help... but Olivia interrupted me and said that she didn't want to hear it. No, I didn't say that their father was going to the army. After all, it was a secret, right?

I told them to listen to their mother, that family is the most important thing, and that if they ever wanted to talk about something, I was always available to them as a friend.

A day later, I received an alarmist message on WhatsApp – what conversations was I having with her daughters? What friendship, what different approach to friendship? How could I hurt such a small girl like Emma, even though she was supposedly already an adult and understood everything before, and now I was hurting her? I said that I would explain everything to Eve, but she had to give me time to write it calmly.

I returned home. My wife told me that she had received a message from Eve that I was having some strange conversations with her little daughters. With Emma, who is underage and doesn't understand anything. That we should understand how this could affect a child. That my wife again didn't know or understand anything. I explained to my wife what the conversation looked like, what I said to the daughters.

I didn't tell Eve that I had talked about it with my wife. I stopped justifying myself to her – let her think that she could play me and my wife separately. I replied to her that it was my way of saying goodbye, a "farewell" to her daughters. That I respected them very much, and I respected Eve too, and I didn't say anything bad about her.

But before I wrote that to her, I asked for an explanation of why she was changing the security settings on WhatsApp to ones that allow for backups. I was (naively) counting on her to say, in the end, that the conversations on WhatsApp were a treasure, that she wanted copies of them, and so on. After 2 hours, she came up with the idea that it was so that the conversation would appear at the top of all chats (and yet, she only needed to resend a message). I already knew that she wouldn't admit to anything. She is always honest – she won't admit it because that would show that she isn't.

I finally sent her the explanation of why I talked to her daughters. She replied, accusing me again of hurting her whole family – generally, everything was based on the idea that I was guilty, that my wife didn't know anything (she already knew, I started showing her the messages), that how could I do that, that I was a liar, and so on.

I decided to reply to her. That I would write my conclusions about our acquaintance. I tried not to write about her, but about her behaviors. She wrote to me about her eternal sincerity and about the dirt and lies on my side and my wife's side. I pointed out her specific behaviors that showed where she was not sincere, not only towards me but also towards her daughters. She said that she never asked for anything. I pointed out specific instances when she did ask for something. That she always wanted the best for me. I pointed out when she divided my wife and me, boosting my ego and diminishing my wife in my eyes (what kind of friends do that?).

She wrote to me that she would give me back all the money for coffee, for fuel, for gifts, that she only wanted good relationships, conversations, and support. I explained to her that this was an exchange of support, good relationships, and help for finances – I also wrote to her that maybe she simply wanted to psychologically cut herself off in this way, but now I believe that it was simply meant to hurt me. And she knew very well that I would reply that I didn't want any money – if I had told her that if she wanted to return it, she should, it would have hurt my self-esteem. And she could say to others: "Look, their friendship was worthless – they demanded money from me for their help"! That would have been shooting myself in the foot. I am sure now that she knows this, or at least subconsciously understands it.

I wrote that now I knew that she had a victim complex and I clearly had a savior complex. And even my last post was meant to be a lifeline – something that might help her with self-reflection. I even took the blame myself at the end – after all, if someone gives an addicted person what they need, they are guilty. And I was giving it. I wrote that I had done her a lot of harm with my help. That I had hurt her. And I apologized.

And I got a reply. She replied to me – no, she didn't address any specific accusations. She wrote more than me about how I was a liar, that it was all dirt that I brought upon her, that I wanted a romance, that I couldn't admit to myself what I felt. That I was a traitor to my wife, that she didn't want to contact someone like that. That I hurt her daughters with my last conversation. That it was dirt, that it was lies. That the daughters didn't want to see me, that Eve did me a favor by not allowing them to ride with me, that she freed me from this burden. At the end, she wrote that she fondly remembered all the shared moments, but she would not forget the dirt and lies – although during our acquaintance, I never lied to Eve. And when my wife wrote to her, "Just between us women, Eve, what bad thing did my husband do to you?", she never replied. And she blocked my wife.

And do you know what? It hurts me every time I see her daughters. And I see them 2–3 times a week. Of course, Emma and Olivia don't answer me with "hi" or "hello". Now I am Igor. I will be stubborn; I greet them politely because I greet all orchestra participants. It hurts me.

And you know what – I don't blame the girls. They have a choice between being loyal to their mother, with whom they spend almost their entire lives, or to a stranger. Of course, they will choose loyalty to their mother. But they look at me as if I hurt them, as if I did the worst thing in the world. At first, I saw fear in their eyes. Now I see contempt. I know that they believe that I am to blame for wanting to hurt their mother, take her away, replace their father – who the hell knows what else?

And I feel so sorry for Igor – I understand what he must have felt when he called Eve. But I won't call. I know what's going on... although I won't find out the details of anything. I don't have to. I just know who Eve is now. I understand. Maybe she has borderline, maybe she has PTSD, depression, but she fits the description of a covert narcissist most, and she probably has all these disorders together.

(Rest in first answer.)