Page 56 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

“Look, Tori… Tori, is it?”

Her name is Tori.

That’s his sober sponsor, I think.

“How do I put this in a way your tiny fucking brain will understand? I don’t want you.”

I assume it’s going to end there until she says, “Even if I do my hair like her?”

Like her? Her who?

There’s a beat of silence.

“Get on your knees.”

What the fuck?

Not even a second ago, he was kicking her out, and now he’s into it?

I hear what sounds like someone dropping to the floor.

“That’s right, baby. I can be whoever you want me to be.”

He groans. “No talking.”

I wish I could see through doors when silence fills the air.

“Like this?” Tori asks.

“Make it higher.” I’m guessing he’s commenting on her hair.

“What about now?”

“Better.” I cringe all the way to my bones.

Why am I still here?

I should go back to bed or sneak downstairs to use the bathroom instead of listening to the first boy I ever loved get a sloppy blow job from his employee.

“Same as last time?”

Just fucking go, Hadley.

“Deeper,” he instructs.

I hear his pants fall to the floor, his belt clinking against the bathroom tiles.

“You’re so big,” Tori moans.

“Last warning,” he spits. He’s asked her to shut up twice now.

She doesn’t comply. “I can make you feel so much better than she can.”

That’s what does it for him.

“Fuck this.”

I understand he’s shoved his pants back on when I hear his zipper being pulled up.