“Fuck me.” I cry out as Brandon bends me over the bed roughly with his fist wrapped around a few strands of my hair.

I need to feel something because right now I am hopelessly lost. On the way home we got into a big fight about the waitress. The whole time I found myself wondering “Why didn’t he just tell her to go “Fuck off?”

Honestly, if I had allowed a man to talk to me that way in front of Brandon, he would have gone ballistic and then punched him or something like that. However, when he didn’t stop her, I couldn’t take it any longer and decided...