by Lili Valente
Chest aching, I hold his gaze, hoping he can see how truly sorry I am to have brought him pain. “I know it was hard. It was hard for me, too. That’s why I tried to keep the lie about the other man going. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and let you down if I can’t be the person you need me to be. I didn’t want to risk hurting you again like that. I—” I’m about to say ‘I love you,’ but I bite back the words at the last minute, replacing them with, “I care about you.”
He’s right; we have to take this slow and do our best not to fall thoughtlessly back into old habits. I do love Will—I will always love him—but saying the words aloud infers a level of commitment I’m not prepared to make just yet. For me, love is a promise that’s backed up with actions. So, until I’m prepared to walk the walk, I should avoid talking the talk.
“You’re not going to let me down,” Will says. “And I don’t want you to worry about hurting me, okay? I’m a big boy, and I can take care of myself. The only thing you should be concerned about is being honest and open and enjoying yourself as we experiment. And as soon as these lessons stop being fun, you let me know.”
I nod seriously. “I will. I promise.”
“Perfect. We’ll worry about the other stuff after your graduation ceremony,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Which I should probably start shopping for. At this rate, you’re going to be graduating early, and I want to make sure you’re dressed appropriately for the occasion.”
Forcing a lighter tone, I quip, “Something leather with spiky studs, I’m hoping?”
“Something like that,” he says, winking as he backs toward the door. “Enjoy your breakfast, beautiful. I’ll see you Monday night.”
My lips turn down, and disappointment rushes through my chest. “What about tonight? You don’t have a game, right?”
“Tonight is a night off to rest, relax, and process.” He pauses in the doorway, looking so delicious in the morning light it’s almost physically painful to look at him. “Like I said, we’re walking before we run. You need time off in between scenes or you risk losing perspective.”
“All right,” I say, though I’m pretty sure I’m already losing perspective, since seeing Will about to walk out of my bedroom makes me feel like it’s raining frogs on my wedding day. “Then I’ll see you Monday.”
“Monday,” he repeats. “I’ll text you with the details later. Goodbye, Curious.” He turns to go, but at the last second leans back into the room to add, “So far you’re getting an A-plus in this course, by the way.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m grinning as I say, “Good to know. I would like extra sparkle stickers on my report card, please.”
“Done,” he says with a laugh. “Have a great day.”
“You, too. And thank you for breakfast,” I say, pouring a cup of coffee as he vanishes from my doorway.
But I’m not focusing on the rich, steamy brown liquid flowing into my cup. I’m counting Will’s steps as he crosses the apartment, my heart sinking deeper and deeper into a sad pit as I hear the front door open and close.
He’s gone. And I won’t see him again until Monday.
The knowledge is truly crushing.
Since we ended things last year, I’ve gone far longer than a day without seeing Will—as long as a couple weeks once we smoothed out our communication system for gym business and he stopped frequenting my favorite coffee shop. And though I never stopped missing him, I learned how to get by and stay positive.
I’m an independent woman who understands that I’m ultimately responsible for my own happiness, no matter how hurt I might be by the secrets my boyfriend kept from me or anything else the people in my life might do to let me down.
But I’ve clearly underestimated how deeply jumping back into bed with Will would affect me. Especially this kind of jumping, the kind that involves shutting down my own self-defense system and trusting in Will to keep me safe.
I don’t regret last night for a second—it was insanely fun and sexy and oh-so-satisfying in every way—but Will is probably right. A day off to process might keep me from getting in too deep too fast.
I pour cream into my coffee and swirl the spoon, mentally scrolling through my stay-on-track strategies, the habits I turn to when I’m feeling down and out. Since Will and I split, when loneliness threatened to suck me down into the misery hole, I’ve found solace in work, exercise, friends, and family.
But the gym is closed on Sundays, my parents are on a European tour, and I already had my fun Saturday with Sabrina yesterday. She’ll be at work all day, pulling a double in an effort to make rent. I could go by her bar and visit, but she would inevitably ask me how Lesson One went, and what can I really say about that except “good”?
The private details are too private for sister dish-time, and I don’t really want to share them, anyway. I want to keep them just between Will and me.
Which leaves exercise as my sole recourse for mood elevation. So even though I’m not at all in the mood for a run, I finish my breakfast, change into my gear, and hit the pavement. I run my usual three and a half miles—the perfect training for the 5k races I’ve got lined up this fall—and then decide to keep going. I’m not tired, and my thoughts are still a ball of knotted yarn rolling around in my head. I haven’t gotten close to untangling them or sorting out what I’m feeling aside from “missing Will and wishing he had never left.”
I push through my usual mile-seven energy dip and loop around for another trip through downtown, taking my total distance to eight or nine miles before I slow to a walk for my cooldown. I’m still restless, but if I run any farther, I’ll regret it tomorrow when I have to spend the entire day teaching my advanced students how to take assailants twice their size to the mat.
And so I slip into Cathedral Juicery for a post-run lemonade and move on to stage two of my Get Grounded plan. Borrowing a pen from the juice barista, I snag a couple of napkins and sit down at a sunny sidewalk table to make a Pro and Con list. It’s a little cool, and most of the people around me are wearing jackets, but my skin is still giving off heat from my run, making me grateful for the breeze blowing off the Willamette River.
There won’t be many more perfect Sunday mornings like this. Soon, autumn will truly take hold and we won’t see temperatures in the seventies until next June. The thought makes me melancholy—I love Portland, but the rainy winters can be a bummer—and the first item on my list ends up being a Con.
Con one: Staying away from Will until Monday means no hugs for at least forty-eight hours. Or at least no Will hugs, which are the best hugs.
How could I have let him leave this morning without getting a goodbye hug? I’ve been suffering from Will hug withdrawal for months and not rushing in shouldn’t mean that a friendly embrace is off-limits.
I make a mental note to ask Will if hugs are approved teacher-student interactions and add a pro to my list:
Pro one: By staying away from Will until Monday I will be following directions like a good student, proving to both Will and myself that I’ve got submissive potential.
Almost immediately, however, I add four more cons.
Con two: If I pretend I’m fine with waiting until Monday, I will be lying to both Will and myself. I don’t want to wait until Monday. I want to see him now.
Con three: If I go home and spend the afternoon alone, I’ll be too distracted to focus on anything productive and end up wasting an entire afternoon binge watching Gilmore Girls for the tenth time and eating an entire pizza by myself.
Con four: And if I eat an entire pizza by myself, I won’t sleep well tonight, and I’ll be wasted for work tomorrow.
Con five: And if I’m wasted for work tomorrow, someone could get hurt, and even if no one gets hurt, I’ll be too tired to follow directions like a good submissive on Monday, and we’ll have to reschedule Lesson Two anyway, so we should just go ahead and reschedule it now—for tonight.
Scrunching up my nose, I valiantly fight to whip up another item for the
Pro list, but I come up empty. Looking at the list, it’s a no-brainer. The safety of innocent students practically depends on me going over to Will’s.
Okay, so that’s a bit of a stretch, but surely Will can find it in his heart to forgive me for disobeying an order, once I make it clear to him that his delay of Lesson Two was short-sighted.
Especially if I provide a suitable distraction to keep him from getting too worked up about my teeny-tiny violation of the power exchange class terms of service…
And I have the perfect distraction in mind.
With a grin, I stuff my list into the side pocket of my leggings, leave my empty juice glass in the dirty dish bin, and hit the pavement at a jog. I’ve already run over twice my usual distance today, but I’m suddenly filled with energy and in too much of a hurry for a leisurely stroll.
The sooner I get home, the sooner I can shower and head for the condo Will and I shared for years, the space that still pops up in my head when I think of home.
Chapter 12
From the texts of Will Saunders and
Shane Wallace
*
Shane Wallace: You told Sabrina I was the rat! How could you, man? I was trying to keep a low profile with her.
*
Will Saunders: I didn’t tell her. I didn’t say a word about you when we talked.
*
Shane: Well, she figured it out somehow. Some buddies and I ended up at her bar on a pub crawl last night, and she gave me no end of shit about being a tattletale who reports back to Big Brother.
*
Will: LOL. Well, you are kind of a tattletale.
*
Shane: I was trying to spare the girl an STD and a broken heart! I was trying to be a gentleman. But if this is the kind of treatment I get for doing the right thing, next time, I’ll keep my mouth shut.
*
Will: I was just kidding, Walls. Of course I’m glad you said something. I don’t want her to get hooked up with a douchebag. But like my biological little sisters, Sabrina’s also stubborn as hell and is going to do what she pleases, no matter what Big Brother has to say about it.
At least you tried to spare her the pain of driving her car off the edge of the heartbreak cliff.
*
Shane: Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?
*
Will: I don’t know. Maybe you’re feeling lousy because your warning wasn’t purely altruistic?
*
Shane: Maybe I’m feeling lousy because you use big words and it’s annoying. I have a junior college degree in welding, asshole. Adjust your vocab.
*
Will: I will not. You’re a smart kid, Wallace. You’d be even smarter if you spent more time reading and less time drinking beer.
*
Shane: But I like beer, and I need to drink it while I’m still young enough to drink all weekend and still kick ass at practice on Monday. And yeah, I guess I’m smart enough, but I’m tired today. So can you just say what you’re saying?
*
Will: I’m saying that you have a thing for Sabrina and that’s the real reason you don’t want her dating this guy. Because he’s nice looking and plays a good game and will actually give you a run for your money when you finally decide to man up and ask her out.
*
Shane: That’s not true! That’s not even close to being true! I don’t want to date Sabrina. She’s a complete pain in the ass.
*
Will: Oh man, you really like her, don’t you? You’ve got it bad.
*
Shane: Like her? Yeah, right. I like her like I like burning my tongue on hot pizza and not being able to taste anything for three days. I like her like I like multiple paper cuts on my fingers on a day I’m making lemonade. I like her like I like getting a puck to the nuts and realizing I forgot to put on my cup before the game.
*
Will: I think thou dost protest too much.
*
Shane: And I think thou dost have your head up your own ass. I don’t like the girl. And even if I did think she was worth the hassle and possible hearing loss associated with dating someone who NEVER STOPS TALKING, she’s off-limits. No dating team members’ siblings, remember?
*
Will: She’s not a team member’s sibling. She’s my ex-girlfriend’s little sister. Even if Hailey and I were to get back together for the long haul, the rules don’t apply to in-laws.
*
Shane: Really? You’re serious?
*
Will: I’m serious. Though I would, of course, absolutely kick your face through your asshole if you hurt Bree in any way. But I happen to think you’re a fairly decent guy, all things considered.
*
Shane: All things considered? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not the one who laughs like a howler monkey every time Cruise pranks Nowicki.
*
Will: I regret nothing. Cruise is a master of his craft, and laughter is good for the soul.
*
Shane: True. He is a diabolical son of a bitch.
So, on a serious note, were you for real about you and Hailey getting back together? Has there been activity on that front I’m not aware of? I thought it was hardcore over between you two.
*
Will: Yeah, so did I.
But there have been some…developments.
Nothing I’m at liberty to discuss, but we cleared the air, discovered our break-up could be chalked up to poor communication on both sides, and agreed to work on some things that might make us a stronger couple. I think there’s a chance we’ll be able to make it work. I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high, but…yeah. Definitely a chance.
*
Shane: Good. I’m happy for you, man. I always thought you and Hailey were great together. Seeing you two break up shook my faith in coupledom.
*
Will: Me, too.
*
Shane: Yeah. I figured if you two couldn’t make it, I’m probably fucked before I get started. Even if I do find someone willing to put up with my crazy travel schedule and my collection of salt and pepper shakers.
*
Will: How many are you up to now?
*
Shane: About fifty. Hit a junk shop in St. Helens last week and scored two creepy as fuck bunnies with glowing red eyes, and a set from the 1930s with baby heads on chicken bodies. Seriously disturbing stuff.
*
Will: Keep it up and you’ll beat out Cruise for weirdest hobby.
*
Shane: It’s not weird; it’s research. The salt and pepper shakers are just a side project, something to hunt for while I’m out scoping out different business models. I’m thinking of opening up an antique store when I retire. I like old stuff and giving forgotten treasures a new lease on life.
*
Will: Why wait until you retire? Hailey and I bought the gym when I was only a few years into my contract, and the business has grown every year since. By the time I hang up my skates, I’ll have a steady income stream to help ease the transition as I figure out my next incarnation.
*
Shane: I like that. Incarnation. It makes retiring sound like something exciting instead of terrifying. Speaking of terrifying, did you hear Brendan after the game on Friday? He said he’s thinking this might be his last season.
*
Will: He’s been saying that for the past three years.
*
Shane: I think this time is different. Apparently he got an offer to go coach for the expansion team in Kansas City.
*
Will: No way. He hates those lame-ass fucks as much as the rest of us. How can he even think about teaching them all our secrets? Not that it will help. They have as much fire on the ice as day-old dog shit.
*
Shane: I don’t know. Maybe he’s just old and tired?
*
Will: Maybe…
Hell.
Makes you think.
*
Shane: It does. I’m already twenty-five. I can’t believe the time has gone by so fast.
*
Will: Cry me a river, kid. I’m staring down the barrel of thirty-two.
*
Shane: So if Brendan and Petrov both quit, you and Cruise will be the new old fogies, huh? That just seems wrong. I like to be able to look up to my team captain…
*
Will: I’m not too old to drive over there and teach you some manners, asshole.
*
Shane: LOL. I’m kidding, man. I mean, Cruise is a clown, and you’ve got that weird laugh sometimes, but either one of you would be a great captain. It just makes you think, you know, about how time isn’t standing still.
*
Will: No, it’s not.
*
Shane: Maybe I will start looking into a business loan sooner rather than later. I’ve already got a lot of solid ideas on how to make my shop stand out in the crowd around here.
*
Will: Go for it. Let me know if you need help with your business plan. I’ve got a great guy. And if you decide to ask Sabrina out, make sure to mind your manners. If I hear you’ve been anything but a gentleman, I won’t be happy, and neither will you.
*
Shane: Understood. And good luck with Hailey. I’ll be rooting for both of you.
Chapter 13
Will
Shane’s words haunt me the rest of the day.
He’s right—time isn’t standing still. And though I know my first call was the right one, and that Hailey needs time to process what happened between us last night, I can’t help regretting the decision to put off lesson two until tomorrow.
I don’t want to wait.
I don’t want to waste a single second alone that could be spent with the woman I love.
Being with her again after so long apart was so emotionally intense I woke up feeling like I’d just played pond hockey all day in sub-zero temperatures, but I don’t want a break. I want to keep skating, headed straight for the thin ice at the center of the lake, and if I fall through and drown in the frigid waters, at least I’ll go out in the arms of my favorite person in the world.