You can’t go home again

He lifted her with strong arms and set her precariously on the bathroom sink’s edge. The faucet scraped her lower back as she dazedly bobbled.

Then he was forcing himself on her and she was wide-awake and sober.

‘No. No, no, no.’ Meek whispers on the tail end of the loudest night.

Several months prior flashed past: ‘I’m not trying to sleep with you, tonight.’

‘I’m not going to sleep with you.’ At all.

He left for bed. The damage was done.