“You should get some sleep and not stare at me like that,” Atticus scolded me from where he was standing by the window, trying to put on his watch. He was on his way to work, but it was too early, and I was in no mood to stand up to have breakfast with him, or rather, I had no energy to stand up.

Ever since we started staying together in this room, Atticus fucked me every single night or rather on most nights, which left me reasonably sore, but I wasn’t complaining. I wondered why he ...