Emma

My heart aches with regret as I watch him wipe the blood from his lips. I shouldn’t have done that, I think, my breath still coming in shallow bursts. But in that moment, it felt like the only way I could get him to understand how deeply angry I am, how hurt I am.

His fingers gently touch his lips before he crumples the tissue and throws it into the waste bin by the corner of his office. The silence between us stretches, heavy and uncomfortable.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice calm. “But I get it. You don’t want me close unless I tell you...