Cutting Cords

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “No, you’re not repugnant at all. But I’m gay, Noriko. I can’t be your husband in the true sense of the word.”

  “As I’ve said before, we Japanese don’t ascribe morality to sexual preferences. One has nothing to do with the other. Who you choose to sleep with does not need to affect your home life. I have no problem adjusting.”

  “You’re giving me permission to have a male lover on the side.”

  “Have as many as you need. Just let me stay and be your wife.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “I know it’s hard for you to comprehend what I’m saying, but if you really think about the future and try to imagine a life without a woman to provide for your children’s daily needs, you will realize that I make perfect sense.”

  “Sloan was insanely jealous of you.”

  “He’ll get over it once you explain how things can be.”

  “No, he won’t.”

  “Then find someone else.”

  “I don’t want anyone else.”

  “Please, think about it,” she said softly, while leaving me standing alone in her bedroom with the tiny voices cooing in the background. Despite my words to the contrary, she’d planted a seed, and suddenly the possibility of a future where I could have the best of both worlds bloomed like a lotus flower. Getting Sloan on board was another hurdle altogether, but it gave me hope where hope had long since faded.

  I went to hunt down my phone, and I picked it up, hesitating for only a few seconds. Sloan had been quite adamant that I should never call him on a whim. Well, this was no whim. It was a life-altering decision, and it deserved a face-to-face conversation. I keyed in 911 and waited for a reply.

  He didn’t disappoint. After about fifteen minutes, I recognized the ring tone.

  “Sloan?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is this a fucking emergency?”

  “To my mind it is.”

  “What the hell, Cole?”

  “Listen, we need to meet.”

  “Why?”

  “I have something important to discuss with you.”

  “Is it life-threatening?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who’s hurt?”

  “I refuse to discuss this over the phone. We have to meet.”

  “I can’t be seen with you.”

  “We don’t have to meet in a public venue. Come here.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t be difficult.”

  “Look, you’re the one who wants to get together, not me. Either we do it my way or not at all.”

  “What’s your way?”

  “Meet me at Grand Central under the big clock.”

  “Are you crazy? This is not a James Bond movie.”

  “It may as well be.”

  “Why? Is he going to beat you up if you tell him you’re seeing me?”

  “We’re not ‘seeing’ each other, Cole.”

  “So I used the wrong word.”

  “Be there in an hour―or not.”

  “Wait!” I tried to stop him, but it was too late. He’d hung up on me, and I sure as hell didn’t want to call him back. That would really piss him off, but I didn’t want to make the trip to Grand Central with only Freddie by my side. I’d done it often enough in the past, but lately, Noriko had been walking with me, and it made me feel safer. Nevertheless, it was pretty obvious that this was going to be a contest of wills, and I’d better do it Sloan’s way or forget about trying to win him back.

  Chapter 15

  I POCKETED my phone as soon as I disconnected and rejoined the rest of the crew inside the warm studio. We were modeling cruise wear, and standing on the sidewalk on a cold January day in nothing heavier than a cotton Tommy Bahama ensemble, bordered on insanity. Planning to meet Cole without informing Trent crossed over the line to certifiable.

  Why risk it? The relationship with Cole was over, and I’d finally graduated from my position of servitude. Things between my master and me were almost normal. If Trent got wind of this meeting, all hope of a future with him would be obliterated. I knew he’d never give me another chance.

  Yet I was the embodiment of the clichéd cat that met its untimely death due to curiosity. I had to know what possessed Cole to make the call and beg for a meeting.

  Walking up to Max, I took him aside and asked for a three-hour break. “Why?” he said, frowning at me. “We’re on a schedule, and I need to be done by the end of the day.”

  “It’s an emergency.”

  “Who died?”

  “Come on.”

  “Are you about to do something stupid again?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “But?”

  “Cole asked for a meeting.”

  “You idiot!”

  “What if it’s important?”

  “He’s about to yank your chain again, and you’ll lose a good man in the process.”

  “Not if I tell him first.”

  “You honestly think Trent will let you go and meet Cole?”

  “If I tell him where I’m going, it will prevent any issues.”

  “Good luck with that, Sloan. The last time you were forthcoming, you spent several days in a cock cage.”

  “This is entirely different. We’re going to talk.”

  “In the same way you were going to offer your condolences?”

  “Am I ever going to live that down?”

  “I think it’s in the hall of fame for the World’s Dumbest Moves.”

  “Fuck you, Levitte.”

  “You didn’t listen before, and if you persist, you’re going to pay big-time.”

  “Are you advocating dishonesty again?”

  “I’m telling you not to go. Case closed!”

  “When was the last time I obeyed you?”

  “You stupid son of a bitch.”

  I pulled my arm out of his tight grasp and walked straight up to Trent. “I need to speak with you.”

  “Sure,” he nodded, following me down the hallway and into the staff room. “What’s going on? I saw you having words with Max.”

  “Cole just called.”

  “And?” His frigid glare would have flash-frozen my entire body if that were possible.

  “I want you to know that I’m meeting him at Grand Central to find out what the hell he wants.”

  “Did you pick the most crowded venue in the universe because you’re afraid you’ll succumb to his charms again?”

  I sighed and automatically sank down on my knees and leaned against him. “I chose it because I didn’t want him to do anything dumb.”

  “He’s the one who instigated the funeral fuck?”

  I looked up in surprise. “Did you think I did?”

  “Yes.”

  I stood up quickly and pushed away from him. “Why did you assume that?”

  “You’re more impulsive.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Don’t be disrespectful.”

  “I think it works both ways.”

  Trent grabbed me by the arm and hauled me up to his chest. “You’re not going.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not your decision.”

  “You dare to disobey me after what I’ve put you through this month?”

  “I’m meeting Cole to talk. I give you my word that nothing else will happen. I have no intention of spending the rest of my life as your fucking slave.”

  “You can bet I won’t want you if you walk out the door.”

  The sirens were going off in my head, warning me to cool it and back off, but I was sick and tired of paying the price for one mistake. It had been a very long month of groveling, and the little bit of patience I had in reserve evaporated in the wake of my anger. “I could have just met him,” I snapped, “and you’d never have been the wiser, but I chose to tell you the truth because I foolishly beli
eved you trusted me. I see now that I was mistaken, and you are always going to assume the worst.”

  “That’s crap and you know it.”

  “I don’t know it, Trent. You’re still punishing me when I thought I’d already made amends.”

  His arms were like a vice around my chest, and I felt like I was suffocating. I’d had it with being told what I could or couldn’t do. I spat out the word, “Queen!”

  “What?” Trent looked shocked and let me go immediately. In all the months we’d been together, I’d never used my safe word. I was surprised he even remembered what it was.

  “You heard me, Master. Queen… queen… queen!”

  The color leached out of his face, and his jaws were clamped so tight I was worried he’d crack a molar. “Sloan?”

  “I’m outta here.” I spun around, grabbed my coat off the hanger, and left him gaping after me. As luck would have it, a cab was driving down the street, and I put my fingers in my mouth and blew. The cab braked, coming to a grinding halt a few feet away from the curb. The desert dweller asked me where I was headed, bobbing his head up and down like a wobble toy. When I told him, he agreed to drive me to Grand Central.

  COLE AND Freddie were right where they were supposed to be―under the big clock. It’s where we would meet years ago whenever we used this venue for a photo shoot. I had a déjà vu moment, and I was suddenly filled with sadness and overwhelmed by the bitterness I’d felt upon hearing Trent’s accusation. I had really hoped we’d moved beyond this, but seeing his reaction to my request was devastating. Not having his trust was far worse than not knowing if he loved me. He had yet to say the words, and after today, I didn’t hold out much hope of ever hearing them in this lifetime.

  I walked up to Cole and tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m here.”

  He smiled, and just like that, it hit me in the gut again. Maybe it had to do with the timing and the way I’d left it with Trent, but whatever power Cole had over my emotions refused to stay buried. It was like a fucking vampire that wouldn’t die. Why? No clue.

  “What’s so goddamn important?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Let’s find a place that’s not as noisy.”

  “I’m sure there’s a coffee shop somewhere.”

  “Lead the way,” Cole said, and he hooked his arm under and over mine, the way he’d done a million times before. I automatically pulled him a little closer to keep him safe. Old habits were as hard to kill as the emotional bloodsuckers.

  We found a warm and cozy shop not far from the train station. It was a relief to get away from the icy wind that blew through the avenues, a harbinger to an approaching snowstorm, perhaps. All I knew was that it was freezing, and my ears were ready to fall off. I suppose it had to do with the summer attire underneath my cashmere coat.

  “I’d like a hot chocolate,” I said to the waitress as soon as she showed up with a menu.

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “With marshmallows,” we both requested at the same time.

  She laughed at us and said, “You guys married, or what?”

  “Or what,” I replied soberly. That was like getting doused with ice water, a perfect way to ruin an otherwise fun moment.

  After she returned with our drinks and we’d had a few sips, I asked again. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m beginning to think I’ve misjudged Noriko.”

  “How so?”

  “She’s as much a victim in this drama as you and I.”

  “Really.”

  “Don’t be so judgmental.”

  “That’s your forte, Cole, not mine.”

  “You’ve hated her from the get-go.”

  “With good reason.”

  “I’ll concede that I made mistakes and should have handled things differently.”

  “That is the understatement of the century.”

  “I’m trying to have a decent conversation without it turning into another round of accusations.”

  “As if.”

  “What?”

  “I still gave a fuck.”

  “Don’t you? Can you sit there and tell me you don’t care?”

  “Caring is far different from loving, and I no longer love you.”

  “You’re in love with Trent?”

  “That’s really none of your business.”

  “I’d like to know.”

  “What do you hope to gain from this conversation?”

  “Noriko has given me the green light to have a partner outside of marriage. She has no objections whatsoever to me sleeping with a guy so long as she and I remain married.”

  I could feel my ass lifting off my seat, ready to lunge at him or walk away, whichever came first. “You can’t mean what I think you mean.”

  “I need her, Sloan, but I need you more.”

  “Me or a cock?”

  “Isn’t it one and the same?”

  “You bastard,” I said, standing abruptly. “Get a fucking butt plug and ram it up your tight ass.”

  “Sloan, that came out all wrong.”

  “No, Cole. That came out exactly right. You haven’t changed at all. You’re still intent on having everything: the wife, the kids, and the boy toy on the side. Guess what, shogun. I didn’t buy into it then, and I’m not even close to wanting it now.”

  “Sloan, I would be fully committed to you.”

  “Until Christmas and Thanksgiving came around and you’d have to be with your family, in other words, Noriko and sons.”

  “Well, naturally.”

  “Naturally?”

  “They would have to take priority.”

  “I need to be with a partner that puts me ahead of anyone else.”

  “Think of the upside, Sloan.”

  I laughed scornfully. “There’s an upside?”

  “You’d have me without all my baggage.”

  Chapter 16

  I DROPPED Cole and Freddie off in front of their apartment after the bitter and contentious argument continued in the cab.

  “Why are you so indignant, Sloan? I’m not asking you to commit a major felony. A little tolerance is all I’m hoping for.”

  “If you don’t shut up, I swear I’ll slug you in the mouth.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t see the benefit to Noriko’s proposal.”

  “First of all, I don’t love you the way I used to, so your proposal is falling on deaf ears. Secondly, anyone with a modicum of self-respect would be outraged by your fucked up solution to your ridiculous marriage. You’re talking about using two people, Cole, your wife and your male lover, whoever he may end up being. That is why I’m so indignant. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong!” I was shouting at this point and so angry I wanted to pummel him to the ground. What in hell happened since we’d parted ways? Had he gone completely insane? Before exiting the cab, he tried one last time.

  “Talk to me, Sloan.”

  “Get out.”

  “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  “Don’t keep the light on, you asshole.” I gave him a gentle shove and slammed the door behind him. I had the cabbie pull over on 13th Street, a few blocks away from Cole’s place, deciding to walk toward Washington Square. There were several gay bars in the area, and I could hang out for a while and try and figure out what I was going to do about Trent. He’d pissed me off, almost as much as Cole, and I wasn’t too keen on the idea of another confrontation. We both needed time to cool down. Tin would have made a handy shoulder to cry on, but he was back in France visiting family, so my options were narrowed down to strangers at a bar. Even Max was out of the question since he had too much invested in me and couldn’t possibly be objective. It had been almost three hours since I’d left the studio, and I was sure I’d be hearing from him shortly, for no other reason than I was messing with his photo shoot. Well, he could join the fray and go fuck himself.

  Slogging through the dirty snow with my hands in my pockets and my head
bent against the icy wind, I realized I’d made a mistake by getting out of the cab. The need to walk out my problem was trumped by my freezing ass, and I darted into the first doorway that looked remotely appealing. Luckily, it was the right move. I’d stumbled into an Irish pub, and the wood burning stove on one side of the room gave the place a homey feel, as did the smell of freshly baked bread and hops. The rumbling in my stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten anything substantial since breakfast, and I slid onto a bar stool, hoping to grab a bite to eat.

  “What can I get you?” The bartender asked, sliding a paper coaster and a basket full of pretzels toward me. His Irish accent brought back memories of the trip Trent and I had taken last year after the photo shoot in London. We’d traveled across the UK, Scotland, and Ireland, staying at B&Bs along the way. The atmosphere in this cozy bar was similar to many of the places we’d visited, as was the friendly manner of the attractive man in front of me. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties and had the kind of face and body that would have caught my interest under normal circumstances. Longish brown hair brushed the collar of the blue twill shirt he wore rolled up at the sleeves.

  “I’d kill for a bowl of soup and some bread.”

  “There’s no need to be slaughterin’ anyone, lad. I’ll dish up some stew, and in the meantime, have a glass of the black stuff to knock off the chill, yeah?”

  “That sounds great. Thank you.”

  “Drink up,” he nodded, placing a mug in front of me and exiting toward the kitchen.

  The dark beer went down easily and warmed my belly just like he’d predicted. Glancing around, I noticed the little details that made this particular bar so inviting. The rough-hewn doors and worn counters gave a natural feel to the place, along with the brick walls and murals depicting scenes from Ireland. I’d inhaled half the glass of beer by the time the bartender came back with a large bowl. There were utensils rolled up in a white linen napkin and a basket of warm bread with a crock of whipped butter.

  “God, this looks good.”

  He nodded at my enthusiasm. “Aye, go on then,” he said, watching me with forest green eyes that crinkled at the corners.

  It was delicious, and I caught myself humming with pleasure as I spooned mouthful after mouthful of the hearty stew, which abounded with winter vegetables and chunks of beef. He replaced my empty glass of beer with a fresh one, and by the time I’d consumed my meal, I’d had three glasses of the dark ale that went straight to my head.