The Price of His Control

ung to my black dress as I approached Mark' s glea

m, and the first thing I heard was Mark' s easy

dows, oblivious, while I, his fiancé

p hair to my scuffed shoes, and dis

n' t follow protocol," he hissed, s

y gave me, holding it like a dead rat before

"Get out. And don' t come b

asn' t afraid of germs. He

but freely shared mai tais with his assistant, Lisa, and her

y compromised dream, every sacrifice I m

g me, about proving

me, long dormant,

to the sani

lding, leaving behind hi

was going, but I knew