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Dr. Moore didn’t look away. “Tell me what happened when you went with him. To that place outside the city.”

Savannah hesitated. Her eyes dropped to the folded tissue in her hand, now shredded at the edges. “It wasn’t what I expected,” she murmured. “I thought he was taking me somewhere public. A restaurant. A lookout. I didn’t ask questions. I just got in the car.”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

“I didn’t want to hear the answer,” Savannah said softly. “Because then I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know what I was doing.”

Flashback – June 6th

The drive was long. The city fell away, replaced by winding roads and thick trees. Damien didn’t speak much, and neither did she. He had one hand on the wheel, the other resting too close to her thigh. Not touching. Just… there.

They pulled up to a glass and steel house tucked behind a gated fence. Modern. Isolated. Designed for secrets.

Savannah hesitated on the steps.

Damien turned to her. “You can still leave.”

It was a trap. She knew it. But her pride wouldn’t let her back out.

“I’m not scared,” she said.

“Liar,” he replied. And then opened the door.

Inside, the air was cool and quiet. No photos. No clutter. No warmth. Just expensive surfaces and silence. He offered her water. She declined. He poured whiskey instead.

Savannah stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, her arms crossed, her heartbeat crawling up her throat.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

“You say that a lot,” Damien said. He handed her the glass anyway. “And yet you keep showing up.”

She took the drink. Because refusing it felt like giving in more than accepting it did.

He stepped closer. “Tell me to stop.”

She didn’t.

“Say it,” he said, his voice lower now. “Say, Damien, stop.”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

So he kissed her. Hard. Possessive. No softness, no questions. He didn’t coax her into anything he took. And she let him.

They moved from the window to the wall, to the stairs, to the cold marble counter in the kitchen. Clothes were peeled off like skin. Her wedding ring clattered on the floor somewhere she didn’t even remember taking it off.

And when he finally touched her really touched her it wasn’t gentle.

It was brutal.

Exposing.

Electric.

And she shattered.

Not just from his hands, but from the weight of everything she’d buried beneath her perfect life.

Back to the present

Savannah’s shoulders were tight, her eyes glassy. She stared at a spot on the floor. “It wasn’t sex. That word feels too clean for what that was.”

Dr. Moore’s pen stilled.

“It was like he reached inside me and pulled something out,” Savannah whispered. “Something ugly. Something I didn’t even know I had. And I hated him for it. But I hated myself more for liking it.”

“Do you feel like he hurt you?” Dr. Moore asked gently.

Savannah hesitated. “Not in the way you mean.”

“But it left a mark.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes. It changed everything.”

Dr. Moore leaned forward. “And when you went home… what did you tell Marcus?”

Savannah laughed softly, bitterly. “That the spa was closed. That I’d gone shopping instead.”

“Did he believe you?”

Savannah’s voice broke. “Of course he did. Marcus always believes me. That’s the worst part.”