“I know what I did,” he said.
“Do you?”
He stood abruptly and crossed to the window, then turned back. Movement always betrayed him more than words. “I know I agreed to something disgusting because I thought everything in the world was a competition and I was bored enough to need a new one. I know I met you thinking it would be simple and that from the first ten minutes, it wasn’t. I know that for the last three months you’ve been living in my home while I pretended not to notice that something was wrong because I was waiting for you to tell me on your terms.” He stopped, breathing hard once through his nose. “And I know that tonight I watched you hit the floor and I have never been that afraid in my life.”
Maya looked at him in the sterile light and felt tears threaten. She hated crying in front of men who had power over her, hated it with a precision sharpened over years. Still, her eyes burned.
