God. I’m starting to sound victimized and I hate that feeling.
 
 I don’t want to be victimized.
 
 “Can we…talk?” I finally mutter.
 
 “One word,” he says with a calm he never uses when he whispers dirty words in my ear. “You only have the right to that.”
 
 “But…”
 
 “Fight harder next time, and I might let you enjoy it.”
 
 And with that, he disappears between the trees.
 
 I gulp, the bitter aftertaste stuck at the back of my throat. I want to follow after him, but my inability to move keeps me pinned in place.
 
 For a few minutes, I just lie there. My gaze gets lost in the darkness of the forest and the dusty blanket of stars above. A gust of wind blows through my damp hair and forms goosebumps on my bare skin.
 
 I slowly crawl to a sitting position, whimpering softly due to the soreness between my legs, on my nipples, my ass, my throat, my jaw. Everywhere.
 
 It takes me effort I don’t have to stand up and put myself together. Well, as much as possible, considering my torn short and panties.
 
 I bend down to fetch my phone that I hid by the side of the rock when I got here. I foolishly arrived at six forty-five because I was overly excited.
 
 And that sense of thrill had bled into my everyday life.
 
 Today, I noticed the people when I never have before. I noticed the way they walked and talked, the way they laughed and scowled. I even stopped to admire the beauty of Blackwood’s forest and its tall trees.
 
 And it’s due to feeling alive after years of just…existing.
 
 It’s the exhilaration after desperation.
 
 I used to only breathe air before; now, I breathe life. The same life that I went to countless therapists to be able to get back but never managed to.
 
 Turns out that consenting to a fucked-up fantasy might have been the answer all along.
 
 And the thought that more is still in store for me fills me with morbid anticipation. But there’s also a bitter taste that hasn’t disappeared since he left me.
 
 For the second time.
 
 I pause with my phone in my hand when I find a few missed calls. One from Mom, one from Lucy, and one from Kai.
 
 My heart skips a beat as I click on the Call button while I slowly make my way down the path to where I left my car.
 
 I clear my throat a few times, afraid of how my voice sounds after all the screams and sobbing that transpired not too long ago.
 
 The PI answers after a few rings. “Kai speaking.”
 
 “It’s me, Naomi. You called me?”
 
 “Yes.”
 
 A gust of wind hits me in the bones as I cautiously ask, “Is there anything new?”
 
 “There’s progress, yes.”
 
 “Why do you sound so…serious?”
 
 “I’m always serious.”