Eight Years of Gilded Cage

open. It was Mark. He was holding a bouquet of roses so large it was almost comical, and he wor

fake sincerity. "I am so sorry. I was out o

ut I held up a hand. "Don'

wn. "I deserve it. My company is going through a crisi

hloe, followed by a gaggle of her friends. They were all dressed i

with fake sympathy. She was holding a large package of adult diapers. "W

ooked at me like I was something they' d scraped off their shoes. The h

ood there, a weak, uncomfortable smile on his face. He

ing feeling I had for him snapped. I looke

ll say it again so everyone can hear me loud and

smirk froze on her face. Her f

you just say?" he seethed. "Are you tryin

me?" I retorted. "The truth is the

ng more than his public image, and I had just shattered it in front of the one pers

taking her on trips, I was also spending your money. I have a very detailed record of my purchase

that once. But Mark didn't need to know that. He needed

ght that I had a life he knew nothing about, that I had c

e. He lunged for me again, grabbing my arm

e needle ripped out, and a sharp pain shot up my arm. Bl

ning with a hatred so pure it felt like ice. I bit my lip, welcoming the sma

n front of him. Not in f