” She turned away from the bookshelf and walked my over to the bed. She said, “Come on, scoot in, I better get back to the party or my husband wil... miss me.”I got in bed, and still sitting up said, “You’re so pretty. Can I have a hug?”She smiled and said, “Of course. Who knows, maybe you can come over and play with my daughter sometime. She likes to read, too, but doesn’t have many friends.” She leaned down, her hair tumbling over my shoulders – I could smell the freshly-washed aroma of shampoo. I found out she was a few years older than me, but live miles away. Though travelling never stopped me before. We arranged to chat again the next day, and did. We were getting on really well, so she asked to exchange numbers. Started chatting and texting, a lot of flirting by both of us for about a week. Then one day she text me saying, she was coming to London to see her old flat mate on the Saturday, and asked if I minded if she came down and met up on the Friday. I said cheekily that she was. She ignored my barb. "Some white wine, if you have it. Please."I opened a bottle from the fridge and poured two glasses. I passed her a glass "You're looking good Beth. I could almost fancy you." I tried joking, but it didn't work. Dammit! I did fancy her."Thank you." she looked at me, but I don't know what she read in my eyes. "How are you, Tim? Are you happy?" No, of course I'm not happy. But it's getting better. This place helps, and I'm working hard, doing long hours. Did you wait for me. “Don’t I make you feel good? I just want to make you feel good.” At this point fake tears are streaming down my face and blurring my vision. I look up at my dad. What I see through my tears isn’t compassion or sympathy. It’s pure anger. “You seriously want me to believe you’re crying right now?!” my dad yells. “How could I have raised such a manipulative monster? Stand up!” Oh man, I’ve fucked up. I stand up, and he pushes me towards his desk. He unzips my pants, pulls them down to my ankles,.