For Her, He Destroyed Me
If I hadn't lived through all of it, I might've believed he still loved me.
But I remembered everything—how he forced me to give up my identity, how he carved the birthmark off my skin, how he made me miscarry, how he stomped on my stomach while I lay there, helpless.
Disgust twisted inside me.
I shoved his hand away.
"Don't say that. I already told you—we're done. We have nothing to do with each other."
I turned away, my voice ice cold.
Charlie, though, tightened his grip on my hand, refusing to let go.
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