I didn't sleep very well that night; I can tell you that much.

Lord Chuck, of course, slept like a baby. He awoke in what appeared to be a very good mood.

I wanted to yell at him when he woke me, offering me a cup of coffee. I wanted to hit him for sleeping so well after what he'd done.

I wanted to scream and rant and rave; but all I could do was look at him.

I was without a voice. He knew it. He had caused it.

I hated him in that moment, with his smiling face and cheerful demeanor.

Who the hell was he to play god with my life?