It was clear to her that I was completely comfortable being around him.“I’m not ready for my little girls to be all grown up,” she said. She smi...ed, but it was a thin, weak smile. “But I’ll survive.”“I don’t want you to just survive,” I said. “I want you to be happy.”Now there were tears in her eyes.“I’m so proud of you,” she said. Her voice quavered a bit.“For doing that?” I asked, astonished.Her laugh was both automatic and cathartic. I think it was because my response was so completely off. First she had to fix breakfast for Bill and Judy. Her children - how could she face them now? How could she ever face her husband Hal again? She felt overcome by guilt. She had been unfaithful - she was no better than a whore. She struggled out of bed and slipped into her housecoat.She was amazed to find that her feelings of revulsion were not nearly as strong as she felt they should be. Nevertheless, she resolved that she would never repeat last night's experience. Hal would never know - and. It took me about two weeks of telling her repeatedly that I was done until she finally believed it. Then she got pissed. Then she started acting even shittier. Then she threatened to clean me out. Then she threatened my pension. And when I finally said she could have it all, as long as I could leave in peace, she must have realized I was serious as a fucking heart attack. Two months after that, here I was, stepping into my front door. A new address. A new setup. A new driveway. A new front. Her voice seemed stuck in her throat, and she felt like she was having trouble breathing even though Andrea wasn’t squeezing yet. Andrea found this very satisfying; the prisoner was already afraid of her. She went on, “It won’t take long to stop your breathing. I’m just going to give you a few seconds to get used to the pressure.” She squeezed slightly with her thumbs and Milla could feel her throat constrict; she could still breathe without too much trouble, though. Andrea listened to the.