# CHAPTER 6
I went back to my apartment that night feeling like I'd been put through an emotional blender set to "destroy."
My throat still ached. My jaw felt weird. And every time I swallowed, I was reminded of exactly what had happened in that office.
I stripped off my clothes, threw them in the hamper like they were cursed artifacts, and stood under the shower for what felt like an hour, scrubbing at my skin until it turned red.
But no amount of soap could wash away the memory.
The weight of him in my mouth. The way he'd looked down at me. The sound of his voice when he said *good boy.*
I turned the water to scalding and pressed my forehead against the tile.
This was fine.
Everything was fine.
I was fine.
Narrator voice: *He was not fine.*
***
The next morning, I dragged myself to work like a man walking to his own execution.
