“Wow, the idea of me wanting all the things I just told you seems so far-fetched that you actually think it must be a joke. I mean, it has to be a joke, right? There’s no way any self-respecting woman would want to be brutalized and treated like a whore by the man she loves. It must be a joke worthy of being laughed at and ridiculed.”

“But … is … you really want all of that?” Vance asks, completely and laughably baffled. “You want to be a whore?”

I pause a moment to just look at Vance—to see the innocence in his eyes mixed with the misogyny and sexism so many other assholes like him are taught from a young age. When he looks at me, he doesn’t see the woman he thought he was approaching earlier. I’m something so much worse now. All of that love just went soaring out the window like a paper plane. He’s just like everyone else, judging me for being honest about what I want and who I am. Nothing has changed in him, and if I settled for him again, I’d be insane for expecting a different outcome. So, I swallow hard and start to walk away.

“Alina?” Vance calls out as I walk past him, and I wheel around.

“I am a whore, Vance,” I tell him, nodding. “I’m just not your whore. I’m not anybody’s, so what does that make me?”

Vance frowns as he tries to figure out the maze I just dropped him into, and I don’t have the patience to wait for him to find the cheese. The audience in the other room starts to come to life, signifying the start of the show, and I have no more patience left to give. So, while Vance looks like an idiot trying to figure out how to label me, I turn on my heel and walk away for good.

Two Months Later

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Marquise Hamilton: God, you’re beautiful. I can’t believe we matched! I would love to take you out some time. Are you free tonight?

I read the message as I walk through my front door and toss my camera onto the couch. It has been a long day. Hell, it’s been a long week, and now that Friday is here, I intend to relax.