“The garage. Five minutes.”

The text lit up the dark room. A command, not a request. My phone felt like a hot coal in my hand. For a second, just one, I thought about not going. Just locking the door, burying my head under the pillow, and pretending I was asleep.

But that was a joke. A stupid, childish fantasy. He’d just come here. He’d stand in the doorway, silent, until I broke. This wasn't a game I could win. This was just a question of how I lost.

My feet hit the cold floor. I didn’t bother with the robe. The dress I was still wearing felt like a...