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His detachment dwindled--he couldn’t see Russian endearments spilled from his lips With zero hesitation, he saw to every inch of my body, inside and out, even my bottom

I would be sore tomorrow, but he hadn’t hurt me At least, not physically My eyes pricked with tears

Once he’d finished withhi I didn’t cry often; God kneas an ugly crier I squeezedthe trehast, he de ?"

I openedLet him see how it feels

"I’vehurt you?" He looked furious with hi me to ball his fists "It was too much"

Tears continued to spill

"Ah, God,his arainst hiain

Trapped like this, I could do nothing but wait Nothing but feel

Hiswith breaths

I sensed his need to punish, to deliver pain And for the first time, I realized that the invisible enemy he wanted to strikewas himself

I whispered, "Stop, Sevastyan"

To my amazement, he did "I would rather die than hurt you like this"

I believed hi my words "You didn’t hurt my body"

"Then I scared you I’ve made you cry Tellyou go That I can never do"

"No, you won’t fix this You had chances to, but nothing has changed" I pushed away from him "Just leaveoff s as if I was the ainst my hip, he said, "It’s been decades since I’ve felt shame like this"

Shame is more painful than blows That only ainstme, love You want to leave--you have reason to--but I can’t let you go anyto do? Nothing has changed

I twisted fro it onfor ed me toward the bed As he drew back the cover for me, my shoulders slumped with exhaustion