KISAREL.
I was so spent it was embarrassing to think about.
I never expected reconciliation with my boss to look or feel like this. To leave me sitting on the edge of his bed at this hour, wincing every time I shifted my weight, with the pleasurable wreckage of the last few hours sitting in every muscle I owned.
I knew I should have held onto my anger longer. I knew that. I shouldn't have even let him touch me after all the hurtful things he said to me in his office. But somewhere between the wall and the bed, I had lost every thread of anger entirely and traded it for something considerably less righteous and considerably more honest.
The truth was that whatever this was — this forbidden, thoroughly inadvisable thing between my boss and me — it was the most real thing I had felt in ye
