BOOK 3: Chapter 12: Day Two – Kitchen Table
She decides before sunrise. She will not speak to him today. Not a word. No eye contact. No glances. No shivering responses to the memory of his hands or the filthy things he did to her in the dark hours of last night. She’s made up her mind. She is done with him—f*****g done with him. She’s seething, jaw clenched as she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair so hard that strands snap off the brush with each furious tug. Her reflection is flushed, her eyes defiant.
She hates that even now, even as she burns with anger, there’s still this aching pull low in her belly, a maddening echo of him inside her. The soreness between her thighs makes her thighs press tighter when she walks, reminding her again and again of how deeply he
