She didn't understand, nor was she sure that she really wanted to.
Caroline was smart. She wasn't easily tricked. Things didn't just slip by her.
But, for whatever reason, she couldn't figure out how Cave loved her.
Well, it was insecurity. Obviously. That's what her mirror told her, anyway. It was always there to taunt her each morning, reflecting her nude body before she got into the shower. Her hips were too wide, her bottom jiggled too much, her thighs were filled with cottage cheese dimples. Her breasts weren't impressive, her hair seemed to split easier the older she got, and her stomach was pooched out. She should exercise, she should diet, she should count calories. Caroline thought of a million ways to fix her body as she showered.
Cave still loved her. He didn't notice any of that crap, only the way she squeezed her eyes shut in passionate throes, or how she mewled like a kitten as he worked on her, or how she sometimes left little half-moons on his biceps from her perfectly manicured nails digging into his skin. Those things mattered to him. He didn't care that she hated her ears for being too prominent, or disliked the way the end of her nose curved. Why couldn't she see how she was so much more than some superficial being? Sure, there were hot babes out there, but Caroline was gorgeous. She outdid all those Playboy models, because she had beauty inside and out.
Caroline never noticed, though; she simply shrugged off compliments, stubbornly clinging to the ludicrous ideas about herself.
Maybe, in this wonderful dream-come-true life she was living, pecking away at herself was the only way to maintain a grip on reality.