No negotiation. No escape. No choice.
He never asked. He didn't have to.
There's a version of him in the seconds before he decides what happens to you.
Not loud. Not performative. He doesn't need an audience. He already knows what he wants. He just hasn't decided what to do with you yet.
I walked into his office to fight for something that mattered to me.
I walked out belonging to him instead.
I keep telling myself there's still a version of this where I get to leave.
I'm starting to think he decided otherwise.