Twenty-nine

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Surf Mesa ft

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Surf Mesa ft. Madison Beer - Carried Away.

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I TRASHED THAT UNIFORM, and the red gown as well immediately after I showered. They held too many damp memories. By the way, he already ruined the red one anyways. He tore it. Ripped it off me and...God, I don't want to remember this right now.

I never realized how used to Mr. Ash's house I'd gotten these few months, so I guess that's why I feel weird making coffee in another person's kitchen this morning. I'm not a fan of coffee, but I need it if I want to stay awake; I don't want to sleep on duty. We may be back in Markham and my ass may still hurt like hell because of my boss, but I know that he won't cut me any slack.

This compound doesn't have three buildings like Mr. Ash's, it has just one. And although it's a big, homely, red-brick mansion, it's nothing compared to his house in Toronto.

We moved out of the city earlier today.

I don't know when or how I fell asleep yesterday after Mr. Ash left, but I know that I showered first and that I slept on my stomach. I couldn't sleep on my ass, it stung so much. Even now.

I'm actually grateful I slept so early and unexpectedly, because Jerry woke me up around three thirty a.m. today to help him get stuff ready.

After apologizing for not saving him a dance, I helped him pack and lock everywhere up. I also made sure I locked all my doors too. Mr. Ash's rude warning yesterday night got me smacking my head mentally. I totally forgot to lock my doors, being pulled to the party by Joan and all.

I was excited to get to Markham because it's been my home for so long, and I could finally visit my mum and my friends. Plus, riding with Joan sitting beside me at the back seat of Mr. Ash's cursed Audi was very fun. I found out she likes Ed Sheeran and Camila Cabello and the cartoon Up.

I don't know what happened at the party yesterday after Mr. Ash and I left, and to be honest, I don't care either. I'm too busy mentally celebrating in gladness that Mr. Ash didn't make that announcement he threatened me with. How embarrassing it would have been to be called all sorts of names in front of and by strangers.

From what I heard this morning in the car though, the party ended well.

I try my best not to think of what happened between Mr. Ash and I in the Maid's Quarters, but of course it's impossible. Every step I take and every corresponding wince, reminds me of every single thing he did and said to me.

Joan was right. Mr. Ash does want me. His hard-on that was pressed against my thigh, his ragged breaths in my ear and his maddening words proved it. He was so affected by me, and I...fuck, I don't understand myself.

I shake my head, trying to dissipate these thoughts for the umpteenth time this morning.

It doesn't work.

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