‘I wish I could; you have no idea.’ Alexi slumps back into his seat and stares at the ceiling momentarily, deflated and almost exhausted. His brimming prick has subsided, and he seems a hell of a lot less aggressive so quickly. I know it’s an act, and I don’t buy anything he says.

‘So, it’s my fault now, is it? … Some weird pull to make my life an endless misery?’ I laugh sardonically, enraged at such a stupid statement.

Fucking prick.

Alexi looks across at ...