“Right.” I let him go, cursing Cole for reigniting old memories. Old passions. Old parts of me. For forcing me to relive cum-streaked handprints on walls, and nights of howling my pleasure into a thunderstorm while being fucked on my hands and knees as my tears scattered the earth alongside the rain. For forcing me to replay all the dirty, wicked things done to me at his hands, and forcing me to pretend they were being done to me tonight to survive making the sweet, neat, predictable kind of love with my husband.
