It hurts.

I thought ditching him in another city would be satisfying. But it’s not.

I thought pressing charges against the prick who invaded my home would feel like justice. But it doesn’t.

I thought letting my guard down with someone for one goddamn hour a day would take the stress out of my life but it sure as shit didn’t work.

This just fucking hurts.

There’s a knock on my door. I don’t move from my chair.

“Nora? Nora, honey. It’s us.”

“Our keys don’t work anymore.”

Trix and Melanie. I wasn’t very specific in my text message.

Fuck Clive.

I roll off the armchair and used tissues tumble off me. I wrap my blanket around my shoulders as I drag my feet to the door to open it.

Trix holds two bottles of wine and Melanie carries pizza boxes.

Melanie’s face twists with sympathy the moment she sees me. “Oh, honey…”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

I turn away and march back to my chair.

“Okay,” Trix says. “We won’t talk about it. We’ll just hang out. Okay? No talk necessary…”

“Right,” Melanie adds. She sets the boxes down on the coffee table while Trix retreats to the kitchen for glasses. “Talking is for losers.”

I yank out a fresh tissue and rest my head on the chair’s arm. “Thank you. ‘Cuz I don’t wanna talk.”

Melanie sits on the loveseat across from me. “What do you wanna do, Nor?” she asks, her voice quiet and soothing.

“Cry,” I answer.

“Okay.” She looks down. “Looks like you’ve been doing a lot of that already.”

“You are correct.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

She raises her hands. “Okay. We have pizza for when you are.” Her eyes flick to the wall beside me. “Nora…”

“What?” I murmur.

“Is that a shotgun?”

I don’t look. “Yes.”

“Why do you have a shotgun?”

“Because this is my house.” I sniff. “I have to defend it.”

“Good lord…” she whispers.

Trix returns with three wineglasses and my corkscrew. She sits down next to Melanie, who promptly nudges her leg and points at the wall.

Trix stands right back up. “Hey, Nora, honey… how about we put this someplace safer, okay?”

I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t gonna use it, guys. It’s not loaded.”

Trix picks up the gun and turns it over in her hands, expertly popping the stock open to confirm it’s not loaded. “Is this the one my dad gave you?” she asks.

I nod. “For my housewarming party. He didn’t like the idea of me living alone on Michigan Avenue.” I scoff. “He was right.”

She sets it on the mantel above the fireplace and sits down next to Melanie again.

“Nora,” Melanie yanks the cork out of one of the bottles. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable upstairs? Instead of all curled up on the chair?”

“No.” I sniff. “I can’t even look at the bed. It still smells like him…”

“Clive?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay. Okay.” She picks up a glass. “No talking. Do you wanna maybe come over here with us?”

I eye the couch. “No. He touched that, too. He touched everything except this chair so I’m going to sit in this chair because he never touched it.”

Trix looks from me to the mantel. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”

I sit up, kicking a few more tissues to the floor. “No,” I answer. They visibly sigh with relief. “No. He just tricked me into trusting him but I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Is that why you had your locks changed?” Melanie asks.

“No, I had my locks changed because he broke them busting through my damn door while he and I were away last night.”

“In New York?”

I blow my nose. “He got arrested while he was telling me he loved me.”

“Clive got arrested?”

“No. He did.”

Trix tilts her head. “Honey, you’re using a lot of pronouns here.”

I point at them. “I know what you guys are doing. You came here with the booze and the food and the quiet, motherly voices to get me to talk but I don’t wanna.”

“We just want to make sure you’re okay, Nor,” Melanie says. “That’s all.”

“Well, I’m fine,” I say, my nose stuffed up. “Don’t I look fine?”

“No,” Trix answers bluntly. “You don’t look fine. You look like something very bad happened to you and I wanna know what it was because Papa ‘Gento got more where that came from.” She points at the gun on the mantel.

I bite my lip, tasting tears on it. “He was my Dom and I trusted him,” I say. “He made me feel so good and then…” A sob rises from my chest but I force it back down. “Clive got the job at Black Book to steal my client list.”

Melanie’s eyes widen. “Did he?”

I shake my head. “He said he couldn’t. He said he fell for me and he couldn’t go through with it but I can’t shake this awful sick feeling that he lied about that, too, but I want to trust him. My body wants him so badly. I want to forgive and forget because I love him.” The sob takes over. “And I know how stupid that sounds. I hear the thoughts in my head but it doesn’t sound like me. It doesn’t feel like me. It feels bruised and broken and the only thing that can make me feel whole again is the one person I can’t trust anymore.”

They stand up quickly and move to either side of my chair.

I crumble even more, dropping my head into my hands as their arms wrap around me. “And I…”

“Shh,” Melanie says. “You don’t have to talk.”

“Just cry,” Trix adds. “Crying is good.”

“Well, I don’t wanna cry! I want…” I sniff loudly. “I want him, but…”

Melanie pushes my hair back. “But what, honey?”

I bite my lip. “I left him in New York.”

They silently stare at each other for a moment. Melanie breaks first with a soft snort that quickly grows into a hard laugh. Trix cracks as well, slapping a hand over her mouth until her face turns red.

I look at them and their hyena smiles, slowly letting the contagious laugh take me, too.