You know that feeling after doing something grave that eats you up and you can't even speak about it? That feeling is embarrassment. Yes, I feel really embarrassed. I don't know why I felt this way. The fact that I gave him permission to do what he did to me makes me feel like a fool. Nicholas doesn't even care. All he was about was his phone. He's been receiving calls here and there without a care. I don't know if this man has anything to worry about. He acts like he knows what to expect at all times.
When he was done, he dropped the phone, and that was when he gave me his time. He stared at me and said, "How are you?" I thought I heard wrong. I gave him a confused look. "Why?" Why was he asking how I was? Why didn't he ask before we got into the car, but now? Why does he even care to know how I feel or not?
"It's an harmless question. I want to be nice to you this morning, so it's a simple question that requires a simple answer," he said.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm good."
