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The beeping sound of the elevator distracted her thoughts yet again.

She vividly remembered the first time she had come here. The elevator had opened, and she had walked out, feeling repulsive with each step she took towards the apartment.

After entering the passcode, the one he had asked her to choose three months into the contract, he had wanted her to have access, warning her always to wear a nose mask whenever she visited. Those rules she had adhered to diligently over the years.

The door beeped, and it opened. She pushed it open and as she stepped in, the familiar smell of him hit her sense of reasoning, and for some minutes, she felt like breaking down.

He had made it clear that it was a contract. A contract with no strings attached. It was so unfair she had to feel this way, and with determination, she decided she was not coming back to his apartment again.

The living room was extremely spacious and lively. It used to be gloomy and depressing until she couldn’t bear its emptine