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cheap pink hair clip, tangled with golden blonde hair in his car, ripped through the chemical h
When he saw my shock, his concern was sickeningly sweet as he offered another Xanax. I pretended
nfirming his control. Then, a message from an old intern confirmed my darkest fears:
r, and my denial shattered. The anger burned, fu
a clear, undeniable sign of another woman. My architect's mind was awake, cold and calc
pte
a P
udson's black Mercedes, staring blankly at the blurred streetlights streaking past. The heavy scent of expensive leather and his cedar cologne filled the tight cabin. It was suffocating. I hated enclose
og of the medication I had been taking for three yea
re that looked like comfort to the outside world. To me, it was a leash. The weight of his palm felt like ice against my skin. My body re
row, dark gap between the cushion and the heavy car door. As an architect, my b
mething cold. Something hard. It
rned me about those. But the cold, sharp edges digging into my skin were too real. I drew a slow, shallow
e cabin with a brief, harsh yell
y hair clip. Tangled in its jagged teeth was
ck hair. P
eetlights outside became blinding stars. It felt as if a massive, invisible hand had reached into my chest and crushed my lungs. I c
y lips trembled, parting as the ur
s off the road for a second. His gaze was impossibly gentle, dripping with a sickeningly swee
tly catching the way my fist was clenched tight against my thigh. He didn't see the
d I always made right before a panic attack hit. My body had been condi
ted heartache. He was a master of the gaslight. He reached over with his right hand, popped open the cent
ild-proof cap off and shook a single,
ble. "Be a good girl, Cora. You've had a long day, and Dr. Evans
e a weapon. A reminder of the
e of nausea rolling through my gut. My body instinctively rejected the poison. I wanted to
o used to design skyscrapers before she was reduced to a medicated ghost-woke up. If I screamed now,
pink hair clip slip from my fingers, letting it fall
forward, obediently taking
urve of his mouth. He picked up an open bottle o
tilted my head back, forcing my throat to
ds on the steering wheel, and returned his attention to the s
, pressed hard against the floor of my mouth, the white pill began to dissolve in my saliva. The chalky, intensely bitter chemical taste flooded my ta
vement as we turned into the long driveway of our Seattle m
l make you taste it b
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