Kate's POV
I had promised Darius I wouldn't fight him.
The people on the other side of the closet door had not been part of that agreement.
The sofa springs in my living room kept their obscene, nauseating rhythm. Every creak punched through the thick wood like a nail driven straight into my chest. Five years of memories blurred under each blow, and I could no longer tell which of those memories had ever been real.
"Faster, Ronnie. Right there."
The woman's voice was high and sticky sweet. My stomach turned hard enough that I tasted bile.
Then came Ronald, laughing.
"Slow down, baby," he murmured. "We've got all afternoon."
All afternoon.
In the living room I had thought was ours. On the sofa I had picked out myself because the cushions were thick enough for him to fall asleep on
