Chapter Thirty-Eight:
That afternoon, when Inga stepped to Cloey’s bedside, she carried a fresh bed sheet folded across an arm and a self-satisfied expression on her face. Cloey had spent the day alone, laying naked on the hospital bed and wishing for nothing more than to be fully dressed. Her body felt broken and mentally, it was like she was in a hole with nothing but a shovel in her hands. She had tried watching the news, usually an instant cure for depression, but the thoughts of what had been forced upon her kept crowding in to unravel her concentration.
Cloey attempted to rationalize the situation but found it difficult to accept she’d had her first same-s*x experience– that she had given head to another woman. Had used her mouth. It wasn’t my fault, she kept telling herself, it wa
