He’s fast out after me, spinning me around as he pulls me into him. I try to fight, but he envelopes me and buries his face in my hair, holding me in a vice-like grip so I can’t struggle free. A bear hug to stop me from escaping.

“I’m sorry, Emma, stop. Emma, I’m sorry.” His voice is raw and strained. I’m fighting but losing, as he knows how to hold me so I can’t move, my body wrapped in his, almost suffocating me. He hugs me tighter, and I slump, anger dissipating in ...