“What did you say?”
He looked me up and down.
“You heard me.”
“Ten years with one man and he never married you. What did you think you were?”
My mouth went dry.
“He paid for your schooling. Gave you a job. Put you in that expensive apartment. Gave your family money whenever we asked.”
“He did not give me this apartment.”
My voice sounded strange.
Far away.
My father ignored me.
“You thought you were his girlfriend?”
He laughed.
Loudly this time.
A woman near the entrance turned.
My skin burned.
“You were a kept woman,” he said. “A pretty bird in a rich man’s cage.”
Every word was chosen to humiliate.
He wanted me smaller.
Ashamed.
Easier to control.
Once, it might have worked.
For years, I had avoided naming what existed between Charles and me because I was afraid the
