But she doesn’t want to talk about Ronald. She doesn’t want to talk about his lying, cheating arse who didn’t even bother to apologise. The stranger has this effect on her, she realises—fueling the anger always simmering just under the surface, alway reminding her of it. She supposes it’s an effect similar to pouring gasoline over raging fire. And yet, she doesn’t mind. Because with him, she feels  free . Angry—but free. "What keeps you so busy? Other girls you fuck in their dreams?"