Other Colors Ch 11
I ran. Honestly, I hadn’t intended on it. And yet at the earliest opportunity—as soon as I was dressed, and could put a closed door between us—I found myself clambering, almost methodically, out through the bathroom window, and down a cold, ivy-covered column into the snowy garden below. I ran by reflex. And looking back, it was just like me—the way my wheels worked. Like a Swiss watch. I didn’t go just because he broke me. I went because, afterward, he’d started to gather up the pieces....