I had done it.
I was successful.
My resolve didn't break, and my mind didn't either.
I allowed him to touch me for a week just so I could beg him to let me go outside.
It's funny how I say allowed like I had a choice or say in what he did to my body. It's Alessandro we are talking about here.
I was almost sick to my stomach at the thought of asking a man for permission before I could take a step.
How backward had Alessandro taken me in time? Was it to the eighties or the sixties? It didn't matter which one it was. They both were times when women were controlled and subdued.
Oppressed and controlled by the men they were told were Lords over them.