The overwhelming urge to make space consumes me. I look at him, trying to figure out if I can truly run without him catching me, but I know that is a long shot. Instead, I yank my wrist free from his grasp as my heart continues to hammer in my chest.

The weight of his claim, his possessiveness, settles over me. I’m his even if I don’t want to be. It’s only a matter of time. The words echo in my mind, making my chest tighten. I need to breathe.

Yes, I need air.

I turn to walk away, knowing ...