I wish to look upon you in this state.” She slowly pulls her arm away from her breasts, revealing the entirety of her sleeping gown. Quincy turns to...his company. “What do you think, Keswick? Was my assertion not valid that Isabel is the slightest of my servants?” The other man cocks his head and swallows a sip of wine. “Indeed. This one must surely offer a worthier sheath for your blade… or mine.” Quincy reaches to her gown and forcefully pulls it apart. A rip of fabric cuts the quiet as her. So instead of talking about it or trying to make things better, they’d both roll over without a word and after a bit of restless tossing and turning, he’d finally drift off leaving Katie in a dark, silent world of inexpressible loneliness. Somehow it was ok if only he got off, as long as someone got off. Then there was at least a sort of sacrificial quality to her frustration. Not the overwhelming sense of failure that had become more and more frequent and which inexorably chipped away bits of. More

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