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"No," she answered quickly. "He didn't touch me. But he wanted to.

And I need you to help me get that memory out of my head."

I wanted to know every detail of what he’d said to her, every sickening,

crude comment so I could replay it in my head as many times as I knew she

would. So I could replay it and feel the misery along with her.

But just because we had no more walls didn't mean we weren’t

respecting boundaries. I'd given her all the keys to my life, because I

wanted her in all those spaces, but if right now she didn't want to share this

part of her nightmare, if that was a space that she needed to keep for herself,

I had to let her. And I'd be here if she ever invited me in.

So carrying that weight for her, with her, was not possible.

But if she needed this—if she needed me—I could give her that.

I let go of her hand, letting her resume her touch. She understood the

cue, and moved her hand inside the fly, her skin hot against my flesh as she

wrapped her fingers around my bare co
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