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CHAPTER ONE

Jillian

It was the kind of dinner that Don would undoubtedly consider to be romantic

The kind with dilasses on the ends of the wooden tables covered with plastic checkboard cloths The evening was still early, so the restaurant was hardly crowded, even on a Friday When Donto take me to Are, and I’d been talking about it for weeks

Instead, I got a chain restaurant with a kid’sthe walls next to me Apparently, the color choices were li artist inside of them but couldn’t color a brown tree trunk or a yellow sun My steak had been overcooked and over-seasoned, and even though I wanted to say so, my date had already berated the waitress nearly to tears, so I sipped the cheap wine and focused on rateful

I needed to be grateful for everything in my life, I reminded myself

Because I knew just how quickly things could fall apart

“Jill, if you’re going to order theon theit,” Don said, disapproval sparking frolass and inspected the contents closely

I wanted to tell hile damn refill It all came from the same twelve-dollar bottle, after all But I didn’t say a word Instead, I just smiled at hi there

Dr Don Augusta had been “courtingray hairs around the teht a few classes at h-priced private therapy practice that he was still trying to get off the ground, and he had his sights set on a more powerful position at the university His reputation ell-known in the acade my dissertation, I appreciated that connection He knew it, and it didn’t seem to bother him In fact, he seemed to feed off his power over me

Power or not, there was no spark No che as our conversation, and we’d yet to darken a bedroom door But he was stable, and I needed that more than I needed passion and romance

“Sorry I guess I’ry yet” Probably because it o hours before a normal dinnertime, but I didn’t say that either Don did not like criticism