I wasn't sure which feeling was worse: knowing she was enduring pain or finding out she wasn't available. I'd never considered that she might be in a relationship, largely because she was around all the time with no mention of a significant other. Knowing now that each time she had met me, she had to have permission was unsettling. Someone else knew about every moment we'd been together and "allowed" her to experience it.
Anger took hold as I digested what Sera had shared. I didn't know jack about her "lifestyle," but I doubted it was a license to beat people at will, and what little I had been able to ascertain from the visual remnants of her "relationship" was not a s****l act gone awry. And that was the only proof I'd actually seen, not what she admitted she kept hidden with clothes.
