Morgan's POVWhen it came to decision making, I loved letting people take the lead for me. I would rather be told what to do, what to wear and where to go.I knew it stemmed from the trauma in my childhood where I was never given a voice and whenever I did try to speak, I was shunned down with words like ugly duckling or fat pig.But for the first time in my life, I finally made a decision, and I was taking a firm stance on it.My very small rows of shoes flew into the box next as I held in a small whimper of pain, trying to look unbothered.I did not know where I was going, I had no idea what I was going to tell anyone, but I just knew, I was going to leave.I could not tolerate this disrespect anymore.I heard the door open behind me just as I zipped the suitcase shut and stood up from the bed.I could tell from his intoxicating scent that it was Damien but that arousal I always felt when he was around was not present today.He did not say anything for a second but I could feel his
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