“What have I done? I’ve destroyed it before it had a chance to begin.”
He didn’t understand Hector’s smile. Now, of all times.
“If you’d truly destroyed it I don’t think she would have agreed to come back next week. Call her, Jason. Be a man and talk to her. Explain. She’s not going to condemn you anymore than I did.” He got out of his chair and turned to leave. “And for God’s sake, next time you have a problem, will you please just talk to me?”
He would have said thank you. He would have hugged Hector, promised him a pay-rise, the world, anything he wanted, but he couldn’t spare the time while he typed a message into his phone.
Chapter Eighteen
I’m sorry. I’m a fool. I need to talk. Can we talk?
Heather stared at her phone in disbelief. She’d only been home a few hours and
now
he wanted to talk? What could he possibly have to say that couldn’t have been said this morning? Did she want to set herself up for more confusion, more pain?
I guess. Not on the phone though. Hate phone calls.
Let him work that one out. She’d done her best before she left. She’d given him every opportunity to explain himself and he’d refused. She didn’t owe him anything. There was no reason she had to make this easy for him.
Blast
. Of course she wanted to talk this out with him. If they didn’t, this whole mess would continue to eat at her, make her feel vulnerable just when she thought she might be getting her strength back. Still, it was his move now. She’d wait—the phone pinged—but not for long apparently.
Video call? I’d drive to Dublin but can’t leave right now. Please?
Video call? She might be able to cope if she could see him. She hated talking to people she couldn’t see—always had. When Darren had still been alive, he’d taken care of all the over-the-phone business. The video wouldn’t be as good as being in the same room but, given the situation, being physically close might create more problems than it solved. Her phone made noises again.
I’ll come to Dublin if you want me to. Fuck the business. I need to talk to you.
NO. Stay where you are. We’ll video call.
She wasn’t sure what to think of the fact he was in such a hurry to talk. He’d said he was sorry and willing to come to Dublin, so maybe he wanted to fix things. On the other hand, he might just want to end their contract in a courteous manner. Maybe she’d pushed him too hard this morning. She wasn’t sure. It had been too long since she had had to worry about the dynamics in any sort of relationship.
Two hours from now ok? Have a meeting first.
Two hours from now would be ten.
Ten will be fine. I’ll be ready.
Thanks.
Two hours to kill—the idea made her restless. She needed to move. She would drive herself crazy if she spent the next two hours trying to figure out what might be going on in Jason’s head.
She left her study and wandered through her home, taking in her surroundings one room at a time. Memories assaulted her and for the first time in eighteen months, she didn’t try to squash them down. She relished the pictures forming in her head.
She saw herself cuddled up with Darren on the long L-shaped couch reading or watching TV together. Her fingers trailed over the spines of the numerous books on the shelves as she shuddered at the thought of one day having to move them all. She remembered the parties they had thrown, the times when the house had been filled with happy people, good food and more often than not, steamy encounters.
She moved along, lost in her thoughts until her feet brought her to Darren’s old study—the only room in the house she hadn’t redecorated at all. Every other room had slowly transformed over time. They were hers now, no longer theirs. Not because she’d been trying to change things but because she’d been living here. In this room she’d made sure to leave everything the way it had always been. Whenever she walked into this study she could almost believe he was still with her or could come back at any moment.
She stepped behind his desk and opened and closed drawers without thinking, until her eyes fell on the envelope. She froze. Her mind stopped wandering. This was why she was here. She hadn’t consciously known it, but every step she’d taken since she’d left her own study had brought her closer to this moment.
Her mind flew back and the pictures were so vivid they brought tears to her eyes. Darren in bed, about four months before he died. Both of them had known they were heading for the end and they’d both tried not to let that completely destroy the remaining time.
She’d been out for a few hours. Darren had insisted she spend some time away from his sickbed every day. When she’d come back, he’d told her to sit down by his bed and listen to him. That’s when he’d made her promise she wouldn’t stop living. He’d told her she was allowed to grieve—but not forever. She remembered the smile on his face when she’d told him she would never love again, never mind submit to somebody else. His response was still fresh in her mind.
“See this letter, my girl. I want you to put it in my desk and leave it there until you’re done grieving. Read it when your heart and body have woken up again.”
She picked up the envelope and fingered it. Was this that moment? Should she open this last letter now? She’d been tempted to open it so many times in those first months after Darren died, convinced she’d never reach the stage he’d described and unwilling to risk never reading his last words to her. But she’d been the good girl he would have expected her to be and had left the letter sealed. She had stepped out of her grief now. She’d even submitted to somebody other than Darren.
She looked away. Now that the moment was here, she was reluctant to look at those words. This letter represented Darren’s last gift to her. Once she’d read this letter, there would be no more surprises.
She glanced at her watch. Half an hour until her talk with Jason. She’d stay here, in Darren’s room. This was her safe place. Whatever happened next, she had the best chance of dealing with the consequences here. Logging herself onto the computer, she knew she was stalling, putting off the inevitable.
Her fingers were shaking when she opened the envelope and her breath caught when she saw the sheet of paper. The letter was short but—tears came to her eyes—handwritten. She stared at the lines filled with blue ink, not even trying to read the words, just drinking in the familiar sight of his nearly illegible writing. She stroked the paper, gliding her fingers over it with reverence. She would have drawn the moment out forever if the need to find out what he’d written hadn’t been so overwhelming.
Heather, my one and only,
When you read this I will have been dead for a while. I don’t know for how long but I hope you didn’t allow too much time to pass before you found your way back to life again. I’m sure you did find your way back though. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be reading these words.
I also hope you found somebody you’re attracted to, somebody who wants and needs you, somebody you can submit to.
All I ever wanted is for you to be happy. I hope and like to believe I brought you happiness while I could.
I want you to remember that being able to love again doesn’t mean you love me any less, just as me telling you to open your heart to someone else doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Whatever you do next, wherever you go and whoever you give yourself to, I will always be a part of you. Live, my dear, love. Do it for me, but most of all, do it for you.
Always yours, Darren
When the first tears hit the paper in her hands she shoved the letter away. She didn’t want these words blurred. She wiped her cheeks with her hand and sighed.
Oh, Darren.
He’d known her so well. She’d needed this. No, she hadn’t felt guilty about her nights with Jason, but whatever reservations she might have had were gone, erased by her husband’s final words to her.
With a shock she realized her tears didn’t stem from sadness. Yes, she still missed Darren, but she was ready to look beyond him. Her time with Jason had shown her she was still who she’d always been. It was what she had needed to take the next step. Even if her time with Jason was over—she sighed, she could admit to herself now that she hoped it wasn’t—she’d always be grateful to him for showing her she could still laugh, enjoy herself and find joy in sharing her body with another.
As if on cue, the computer dinged and a Skype message flared on the screen. Jason…
Shit.
She’d been crying. He could see the wetness on her cheeks. Had he caused her pain again?
He’d planned an opening speech, had it all figured out in his head. He’d apologize and explain, tell her what he’d told Hector and be completely honest.
Just the sight of her and those tear-stained cheeks robbed him of his well-rehearsed words.
“Heather, what’s wrong?”
Her smile took him by surprise.
“Nothing. I’m fine—great, in fact.”
He waited, hoping she’d tell him more before realizing he’d no right to want that, never mind expect it. Seeing her face-to-face, even if it had to be on a screen, brought home to him how stupid he’d been. He’d been willing to let her walk away just because of his misplaced sense of pride.
“Jason?”
His name snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I’m sure you didn’t set this video call up just so you could stare at me.”
“No, I didn’t. It would have been reason enough though, under different circumstances.”
He was grateful when she smiled at him.
“I enjoy flattery as much as the next person, but I need more from you right now.”
He snapped out of his fantasies and gathered his thoughts. Okay, he could do this. Heather didn’t intimidate him as much as Hector had, and surely the second time would be easier than the first. Jason gathered his courage, took a deep breath and talked.
“Heather, I’m sorry. I’m a fool and a coward and I should not have let you leave without trying to explain what has been going on with me.”
She just looked at him, waiting for more.
“I… Shit, this is hard. It started about four months ago…”
He talked. Told her about the moment he’d realized dominating his subs wasn’t enjoyable anymore, the day he’d decided pretending would end up killing him and his decision to stop all demonstrations.
“I just couldn’t do it anymore. Every time I tried just re-enforced my sense of failure. It hurt too much. My whole sense of self, an integral part of me, seemed to be dissolving before my eyes. I refused to face the pain after a while.”
Heather didn’t say a word, didn’t ask questions, didn’t try to interrupt. He saw no surprise or shock in her gaze, never mind the contempt he’d feared. The understanding he did see gave him the courage to continue. The hard part was still to come.
“When you walked into my office, my body reacted for the first time in months. Your lowered gaze that evening heralded the return of all those feelings I’d imagined dead and it scared the shit out of me. I didn’t trust that part of me anymore. If it could just disappear, how could I be sure it was real? What if I went with it and it just stopped again?”
He saw Heather open her mouth.
“No, please let me finish.”
Her nod was all the encouragement he needed.
“When you broke down after we watched Hector and Amber, I blamed myself. I was convinced I would have recognized the signals if only I were a true Dom. The fact that I’d missed the warning signs proved I wasn’t fit to call myself a Dom, never mind ask anybody to submit to me ever again.”
The tears in her eyes surprised him. He wanted to ask what they meant but knew if he did, he wouldn’t finish what he had to say.
“And then, last night, I couldn’t stop myself from making you submit to me. I tried and failed. The urge was too strong. You were so beautiful, so open to suggestion, so responsive.”
For a moment he saw the images in his head. Heather bent over his chair, her legs apart, her body waiting for whatever he wanted to do with it.
“It scared me, Heather. I wanted your submission so badly and had myself convinced I’d end up hurting you if you gave it to me. So this morning I decided I had to create a distance between us. If I kept you at arm’s length, I couldn’t hurt you.”
“Any more than you did.”
Her voice was soft. Her words hurt as if she’d slapped him. He wished she had hit him. He deserved it.
“Any more than I did. You’re right.”
“Nobody was to blame for my breakdown, Jason. I’ve said this before. If anybody made a mistake that night, it was me. Not you. How could you have known? How could you recognize any of my signals when you didn’t know me?”
He didn’t know why she still didn’t sound angry. He’d been ready for an outburst, for her to scream at him, call him stupid, end the connection and yet, here she was, calm and reasonable.
“I know. I know it now. I didn’t before. I was too wrapped up in my own misery, in my doubts and anger to listen to what you were saying, never mind think straight. I was too afraid to share my shame with you.”
Or anybody else
. “I’m not asking you to understand. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know this whole mess is on me. It never had anything to do with you.”
“You thought I wouldn’t understand?”
For the first time he heard something other than understanding in her voice.
“How do you think I felt? I didn’t think I’d ever be able to submit to anybody again. I couldn’t imagine being attracted to another man after Darren and then I saw you. I didn’t want to feel what I felt. I denied my desire and need to submit, preferred to lie to myself.”
He felt like an even bigger bastard. None of this had even crossed his mind. That ugly little voice in his head tried to worm its way back in.
See, you’re not fit to be anybody’s Dom
.