The words fall out of my mouth before I decide to say them, and what I just said is the most brutal truth of our entire relationship.
He doesn’t respond for a long time. The ceiling fan clicks above us in a rhythm that sounds too steady for what just happened in this room.
“Does that make me a w***e?” I ask,
and it’s a genuine question because I actually want to know the right word for a woman who let four men use every hole in her body.
A woman who discovered she’d been craving exactly that her entire adult life.
“I don’t know,” Marcus says, and his voice is raw and hollowed out.
“Watching that was the worst night of my life and the best night of my life and I cannot make those two things sit together in my head.”
I turn to look at him.
This is the man who stopped reaching for me
