I forced a halfway sincere-looking smile onto my face, my insides shriveling up with hatred. It was, ironically, mostly hatred toward myself. I still hadn’t forgiven myself for not being the badass I’d always thought I would be. The past year or so, he had broken me down, softened me until I was nothing more than this useless, simpering lump with a quavering smile. Keeping my head down and my shoulders hunched had stopped being a survival trait and started becoming an actual habit that I did everywhere, even when Brandon wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. I was becoming less me, less present,
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