The days that followed blurred together.
I stayed in the guest room. I ate the food his staff left outside my door. I wandered the penthouse like a ghost, touching things I shouldn't the spines of books in his library, the edge of the marble counter in his kitchen, the cold glass of the windows that looked out over a city that didn't care about me.
But I didn't leave.
I told myself it was because of the contract. Because of Milly. Because of the two hundred thousand dollars and the private school and the full-time nurse who sent me pictures of my sister smiling in a uniform I could never afford.
But at night, when the penthouse was silent and I lay in that too-soft bed, I knew the truth.
I stayed because of him.
He didn’t so as much look at me for three days.
I saw him in passing on
