"She's not getting between us anymore."

He threw the phone aside and pulled me back to the couch. "We need to talk."

"Richard, you're drunk. Do you even know what you're saying?" I tried to stand but he caught me.

He pulled me onto his lap, holding me close.

That familiar warmth, that safety—for a split second, it felt like home.

I pinched myself hard. Get it together.

I couldn't let Richard mess with my head. ...