When I finally lift my head, I find Sebastian standing in the doorway watching me. “Are you okay?”

Silently I nod.

He nods back, but all of the smugness has gone from his expression and in its place is a cold vacantness that terrifies me. He hated that I flinched from his touch, even back in high school, so it must be driving him crazy that I won’t let him comfort me when I freak out now. Without a word he moves to the dresser and opens a drawer, pulling out panties, running shorts and a sports bra and tossing them toward me. Opening a second drawer, he pulls out clothes for himself and we dress in silence.

“My sneakers and AirPods are in my room.”

“It’s open, we’ll move the rest of your stuff into our room once we get back.”

“I’d rather keep my things in my room.”

“Not your choice, I thought you understood that.”

Because I’m your prisoner, I say inside my head, but I manage to keep my expression clear as I run up the stairs to my room and grab my sneakers, armband and AirPods. I could barricade myself inside and refuse to leave, but I really do need to run, so instead I descend the stairs and then calmly make my way out of the front door, hating that the electric gates open the moment they sense our presence.

The urge to run is almost overwhelming. If I had a car, if I could outrun him, if there was a chance I’d escape, I’d bolt and never stop running until I was free of him. But here and now there’s nowhere to go, at least not before he caught me.

Pushing my buds into my ears, I do my usual stretches, set my run tracker, turn up my mellow running playlist and go. I don’t bother to look behind me, I know he’s following, I can feel the intensity of his presence but I refuse to let him infiltrate my happy place, so I ignore him and just run. After a while, the routine of putting one foot in front of the other settles into place and I lengthen my stride, enjoying the freedom of living entirely in my head from one step to the next.

I don’t turn toward the main gates this time, instead I circle around the main building again, looping the entire smattering of brick-built buildings as I go. Running the same loop another three times, I reluctantly turn back toward the house, my lungs warm, my legs comfortably sore. Ignoring the vending machines I stopped at yesterday I continue straight on to the house, feeling a resigned sense of hatred for the place the moment it comes into view.

Sebastian passes me for the first time when we reach the gates, using his key card to unlock it, then motioning for me to walk through. My feet stop on the threshold, and I glance up at the house, my prison. I don’t want to willingly incarcerate myself again, but I’m not sure there’s another choice, at least not for the minute. I will get away from here and him, but I can’t be impulsive, I need to be calm, make a plan, know where I’m going and how I’ll get him to leave me alone for good the next time I run.