Trauma and Memory in Twisted Love: How the Past Shapes Identity and Connection
Thematic Claim
In Twisted Love, Ana Huang presents two characters whose relationships with memory are diametrically opposed—Ava Chen’s near-total repression of a childhood trauma and Alex Volkov’s hyperthymesia, which forces him to relive his family’s murder every day. Although one forgets and the other cannot, both are imprisoned by the past. The novel argues that unresolved trauma, whether erased or obsessively preserved, dictates identity and sabotages connection until it is faced honestly. The path to healing lies not in forgetting or in revenge, but in choosing to trust and be vulnerable despite the risk.
The Opposite Poles of Memory
The foundation of the thematic contrast is laid early. In chapter 7, Alex casually mentions his HSAM—he remembers every conversation, every detail, every emotion, whether he wants to or not. Ava, by contrast, admits she has no memories before age nine, when the most terrible events of her life occurred. She calls it ironic: “the girl who remembers almost nothing, and Alex, the man who remembers everything.” This line crystallizes the central opposition: one protagonist is haunted by a past he cannot escape, the other is haunted by a past she cannot recover.
Alex’s memory is a curse. He tells Ava that it is like watching the film of your life unfold, sometimes a drama, sometimes a horror—and that there is no comedy or romance. His trauma is not passive; he actively rejects the idea of healing. In a therapy session recounted later, he says, “I don’t want to heal. I want to burn. I want to bleed. I want to feel every flash of pain.” This refusal to let go becomes a wall he erects between himself and any genuine closeness, a wall he believes will protect others from the darkness inside him.
Ava’s repression, meanwhile, leaves her open but fragile. She has built a sunny, trusting persona—her nickname “Sunshine” reflects the identity she created to mask the gaping hole in her history. Her entire sense of self is constructed on the absence of memory, and when fragments begin to surface, that identity starts to crack.
The Drowning Memory Resurfaces
The first major plot point where trauma and memory collide is the assault by her ex-boyfriend Liam at the gallery gala (chapter 17). The physical attack triggers a vivid, involuntary flashback of her childhood drowning—the moment her mother (she believes) pushed her into the lake. The memory pours back with sensory details: the scent of her mother’s perfume, the feel of a strong hand on her back, the water closing over her head. Her carefully maintained composure shatters. She breaks down sobbing in Alex’s car, ashamed and terrified that she is “losing her mind.”
This flashback is the beginning of the unraveling. It also marks a turning point in her relationship with Alex. Witnessing her raw vulnerability, Alex does not retreat; instead, he drives them to a roadside diner, wraps his jacket around her, and for the first time speaks to her not with autority but with gentleness. The shared vulnerability creates the first bridge between their different experiences of trauma: for a moment, the man who remembers everything and the woman who remembers nothing meet in the space of a single painful truth.
Swimming as Confrontation
The second plot arc that develops the theme is the swimming lessons. After the flashback, Ava confides her aquaphobia to Alex and asks him to teach her to swim. He agrees, and the pool becomes a controlled environment where she can face the water—the element of her trauma—with his support. Through visualization exercises and incremental progress, Ava begins to reclaim agency over her memory.
At the same time, Alex’s own trauma surfaces when she organizes his first birthday party since his parents and sister were murdered. He admits the party is a first, and later, at her insistence, reveals the full truth: a business rival killed his family, and because of HSAM, he relives that day “like a movie” every morning. The revelation—spoken in a moment of intimacy—shows that even the man who claims he cannot heal is taking a step toward sharing his burden. He calls their kiss afterward a “mistake,” but that dismissal is his familiar shield, not a true rejection.
The swimming lessons therefore function as a double therapy. Ava learns to trust the water again, symbolically reclaiming her past; Alex learns to let someone see beyond his controlled exterior. Yet the process is incomplete. Alex still believes his darkness will consume her, and Ava still believes she can fill the void of her forgotten years with his intensity.
Betrayal and the Shattering of Memory
The third crucial plot point is the betrayal. In chapter 39, Ava learns that Alex has been lying to her for years about his motives—that his involvement with her was part of a plan to destroy her father, Michael Chen, the man who actually pushed Ava into the lake. The boy she loved, the man who taught her to swim, the person she believed saw her as more than a mission, reveals himself as the architect of her pain.
The discovery does not just break her heart; it collapses her very sense of reality. She reels through every past conversation and kiss, now seeing them as “lies.” The internal monologue shows her holding onto “shreds of hope with bloody fingers,” even as she asks Alex, point-blank, whether any of it was real. His cold response—that he warned her not to fall for him, that it is a “lesson for the future”—dashes that hope. She reflects that the girl who believed in light, love, and goodness no longer exists.
This moment is the novel’s deepest exploration of the intersection between trauma and memory. The same hyperthymesia that tortured Alex with the past now allows him to weaponize the truth selectively. Ava’s romantic memories, once cherished, are retroactively contaminated. The water symbol returns: after the confrontation, she sits in Bridget’s car and feels like an ant swept away by a tidal wave. Her earlier aquaphobia was a fear of the element itself; now she drowns in the flood of emotional pain.
Reconciliation and Choice
The final act offers a nuanced resolution. A year later, at Ava’s photography exhibition in London, Alex makes a public confession of love and regret. He has not changed overnight—he is still the man with a memory that never fades—but he has decided to be honest. Ava’s decision to trust him again is not based on forgetting the betrayal but on choosing to believe in the possibility of change. She says she is ready to “live without fear,” acknowledging that memory cannot be erased, but that the future can be chosen differently.
This conclusion complicates any simple reading of trauma as something to overcome. Neither character fully recovers. Alex’s HSAM remains; Ava’s repressed memories do not disappear. But they learn to coexist with their pasts, and to let the other person see the wounds. The epilogue shows them in Vermont, stable and affectionate, but the unresolved rift with Josh—Ava’s brother, and Alex’s friend—remains a dangling thread. The thematic claim is thus not that love heals all, but that connection can be built on the foundation of shared vulnerability, even when the past is permanently scarred.
Symbol Connections
The novel’s key symbols reinforce the trauma and memory theme.
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Water, Lake, Drowning: Water is the element of the repressed memory. It represents danger, the unknown, and the overwhelming return of the past. Ava’s aquaphobia mirrors her psychological avoidance, and learning to swim is learning to face her own history. The lake is her first nightmare; the pool becomes a site of controlled exposure.
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Photography: Ava’s chosen medium contrasts with Alex’s perfect memory. Photography captures a single moment, preserving it artificially, whereas Alex’s HSAM captures everything—the good and the terrible. Her final exhibition, where Alex buys all her photos, symbolizes his desire to possess her memories and his recognition that art can hold the pain that he cannot escape.
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Fire: Alex repeatedly uses fire imagery. He wants to burn, not heal. Fire consumes the past without altering it. The playlist includes Adele’s “Set Fire to the Rain” and Ellie Goulding’s “Burn,” underscoring his destructive impulse. When Ava’s world shatters, she feels her heart “set on fire” by liquid tears.
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Sunshine: Ava’s nickname represents the identity she crafted to cover the darkness. “You are the light of my darkness, Sunshine,” Alex writes, but the phrase becomes hollow when the betrayal is revealed. After the year apart, Ava reclaims the name on her own terms—not as a mask, but as a choice.
Complexity and Contradiction
The novel resists a simplistic “trauma can be healed” message. Alex’s refusal to let go is not portrayed as wholly negative—it fuels his drive and protects him, even as it isolates him. Ava’s forgetting is not purely innocent—it leaves her vulnerable to manipulation and blind to her own history. The discovery that her father, not her mother, was the attacker adds an extra layer of betrayal: the trauma she repressed was caused by the very man who now tries to control her.
Furthermore, Alex’s love for Ava is genuine, yet his deception is also real. The novel does not excuse his lies, but it shows that a person’s actions can be both traumatizing and motivated by genuine feeling. This moral ambiguity reflects how memory itself is unreliable: the same event can be remembered differently, and the same person can be both hero and villain.
The ending leaves Josh estranged—a reminder that trauma also ripples outward, affecting siblings and friends. Not all wounds can be healed within the scope of the story.
Study Questions and Answers
1. How does Ava’s lack of early memories shape her personality and relationships at the start of the novel? Ava compensates for her blank past by adopting a sunny, trusting demeanor. Without the weight of conscious trauma, she forms attachments quickly and idealizes people, including Alex. Her lack of memory leaves her vulnerable because she cannot learn from past pain.
2. Why does Alex reject the idea of healing from his hyperthymesia? Alex views healing as giving up his need for revenge and as a betrayal of his family’s memory. He wants to feel the pain because it fuels his mission to destroy the man who killed his parents. He also fears that letting go would make him weak.
3. In what way is the swimming lesson a metaphor for confronting trauma? The water represents the repressed drowning incident. By learning to swim with Alex’s guidance, Ava voluntarily enters the space of her fear. Each lesson is a controlled re‑exposure to the traumatic element, rebuilding trust in both water and her companion.
4. How does Alex’s betrayal complicate the idea that forgetting the past allows healing? Ava’s memory loss did not prevent her from being harmed again; in fact, it allowed Alex to manipulate her without her knowledge. The betrayal shows that repression is not a protection. True healing requires knowing the ugly truth and choosing to move forward anyway.
5. Why does the epilogue leave the rift between Ava and Josh unresolved? The unresolved brother–sister conflict demonstrates that trauma does not affect only the two protagonists. Family members also carry scars, and relationships cannot always be restored by romantic love. It adds realism to the otherwise hopeful ending, acknowledging that some wounds take longer to heal.