My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I felt it in my throat. I scrambled upright, fingers still shiny and sticky, staring at the screen like it might explode. The dots bounced. Vanished. Bounced again. My stomach dropped through the floor. I watched them for what felt like an eternity, every second stretching into something sharp and unbearable. He was reading it. He was reading every filthy word I had written about him f*****g me, owning me, making me come on his c**k while calling me his dirty little secret.
The dots stopped.
Nothing came through.
I waited.
One minute.
Three.
Five.
Still nothing.
I almost gave in to the urge to type an apology, a lie, anything—wrong chat, ignore that, I’m so sorry—but my hands were shaking too hard. Instead I locked the phone, threw it face-d
