When Memory Returns, Love Dies

. Panic built. Then, a man from the picture walked in, tray in hand. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said. He was my

, their too-familiar glances, and their cruel whispers in his office. "It's convenient," he' d said.

e owned the place. "Where else would you go?" she purred. Ethan, instead of concern, was annoyed. When I dared to demand a divorc

plessness. He had convinced my parents I needed isolation, turning me into a commod

just used me; he was enabling my condition. The realization was sickening. I was