by Tara Sue Me
“No.”
She nodded, as if I’d given her the response she anticipated. “There are those who say sub drop is actually worse in long-term committed partners.”
“Really?” I didn’t think I’d had anything remotely resembling sub drop for years. But as I thought about what I’d felt last few days and compared it to what I knew from both others and my own experience, it did sound an awful lot like what I had gone through.
“Really. So do like I suggested, talk to your Master, and give me a call in the morning. Let me know how you’re doing so I don’t worry.”
We stood up and I hugged her. “Thank you, Meagan.”
“I’ve been there,” she said, but the strong Domme look had left her eyes and in its place was a haunted expression. “I know what you’re feeling. Just know you’re not alone.”
* * *
I called Nathaniel on the way home. He would probably just be finishing up his meetings for the day. I thought about waiting until he got home, but I had promised to let him know how it went.
“Abby?” he asked, picking up on the first ring. “Everything okay?”
Though I had been angry and upset with him earlier, my body felt more at peace hearing his voice. Something about hearing him say my name, in the soft gentle way only he could, partially erased my unease.
“Yes,” I said with a smile. “Everything’s very good.”
I heard the relief in his voice. “I’m so glad to hear that. The meeting with Mr. Black went well?”
“I guess you could say that.” I couldn’t believe I was getting ready to say the next words. “They want me to be on TV.”
“What?”
“I know. Exactly what I said.”
“On TV doing what?”
“Just on Mondays for a question and answer session with viewers, to tie into the blog.” I rushed to add, “They said they’d disguise me so I’d be unrecognizable.”
“This is incredible. What a great opportunity.”
Any lingering tension in my body left with his affirmative words. I didn’t realize until he said them how much I’d feared he wouldn’t be excited or think it was a good idea. Though I didn’t need his permission, I craved his approval.
“You think it sounds good?” I asked.
“I think it’s beyond good. I think it’s fantastic.” His voice lowered. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to share you with the rest of the world. I kind of like having you to myself.”
“You’ll still have me Tuesday through Sunday. You only have to share on Mondays. And only for ten minutes or so.”
“I don’t know. Ten will turn into twenty. Twenty into thirty. Before you know it, you’ll be famous and you won’t want to have anything to do with us.”
He was teasing, but I wondered if there wasn’t a bit of truthful worry in his tone. We hadn’t left each other’s company on the best of terms. That mixed with me being offered a position in television was enough outside of any plan he’d ever thought up that he was probably about ready to crawl out of his skin.
“That’ll never happen,” I assured him. “The world can have me for ten minutes on Monday nights, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m yours.”
“I hate it when we argue,” he said, out of the blue.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Me, too.”
* * *
I made it home early in the afternoon. Linda left a note saying she’d taken the kids to see Felicia and to keep the twins company and out of trouble.
I picked the newspaper up from where I’d left it on the floor early in the morning. It’d been ages since I’d read the paper and had a cup of coffee, and at the moment it sounded like the perfect thing to do.
I was curled up on a couch in the library, coffee at my side, when I flipped to the political section. I almost missed it. If it hadn’t been for the paper crinkling up at just the right spot, I never would have seen it. But the paper crinkled and as I was straightening it out, I realized my thumb was beside a picture of Nathaniel.
My hands shook as I looked closer. He wasn’t the subject of the picture; that honor belonged to the council member who’d just been accused of misuse of public funds. Nathaniel simply had the misfortune of being seated nearby in the photograph of a fund-raising dinner. Nathaniel and his dinner date, that was.
Charlene. She was gorgeous in that naturally beautiful way some women were born with. I remembered from seeing her in person, but it was even more obvious from the profile picture. And while that was irritating, it was the look captured unknowingly by the photographer that made my chest tight. Nathaniel and his date were gazing into each other’s eyes, completely oblivious to their surroundings.
I set the paper down. Was it taken the day I saw them in the bar or some other time? I couldn’t make out exactly what Nathaniel was wearing, but I assumed it was taken in Delaware.
I didn’t like the thoughts forming in my head. While I knew, I knew, he would never cheat on me, the fact remained he’d had dinner, or lunch, alone with a woman and he hadn’t told me about it. That itself didn’t sit well.
Circumstantial evidence, one part of my brain said.
Still pretty damning, said another.
I should call him. Call him up and talk about it. But the more I thought about, the less it sounded like a good idea. There wasn’t any way to bring it up that didn’t sound accusatory. And we’d already fought over her once. Besides, I knew it was nothing.
The sound of Linda pulling into the driveway caused Apollo to bark and I decided to think about Charlene and Nathaniel later.
* * *
I found my chance to bring it up later that night. I’d put the kids to bed and everything was quiet. Nathaniel was in his office working. I picked the newspaper up from where I’d left it on my desk and opened it to his picture.
He looked up when I entered the room. “Abby?”
I put the paper down so he could see the picture. “Was this taken while we were in Delaware?”
His eyes widened as he looked down. “Damn, I didn’t see a camera.”
“Really? That’s how you’re going to answer? You didn’t see a camera?”
He picked up the paper and looked closer. “Yes, this was taken while we were in Delaware.”
I crossed my arms and waited.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he continued and he sounded tired. “We’ve already argued about her once. I really don’t feel like rehashing it again.”
I sat down in the leather chair across from his desk. “Then let’s not rehash it. Tell me what your business is with her.”
His lips pressed together tightly and for a long moment, I thought he wouldn’t say anything. But then he sighed. “I offered her a position.”
I shot up. “You what?”
“Running the nonprofit.”
Shit. It really was the nonprofit. I started pacing. And he’d offered her a job? She was never going to go away and I’d have to hear about her and talk with her and be sociable. “Why would you do that?”
“You know, I don’t make it a habit to routinely question you on your business decisions.” He narrowed his eyes. “Sit down. You’re giving me a headache.”
“No,” I said and stood behind the chair, holding on to the back. “She’s trouble. Why would you hire trouble?”
“She’s exceptionally qualified and is looking to diversify her résumé. It wouldn’t be for a long period of time.”
“I think it’s a bad decision.”
“I don’t think it’s your concern. But if you must know, she’s the best person for the job, is willing to take it on, and can make it into something I can’t.”
“And you know she’s not going to cause anything but problems for us.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at me. There was dis
appointment in his eyes. “What’s your problem with her? I’ve never seen you like this before. You don’t act like this around women I’ve played with.”
“Those women are in the past. She’s right here, in the flesh, and she’s now.”
“Are you afraid I’m going to be tempted to do something with her?” he asked.
I thought about that. “No,” I said, honestly. “It’s her I don’t trust.”
“I’m with women all the time. Every morning you say good-bye to me and I’m willing to bet you never think I’m walking out that door to fall into the clutches of the world’s most evil women.”
So what was it about her that rubbed me the wrong way? “There’s something about her I don’t like. I can’t put my finger on it.”
He sighed and shuffled the papers on his desk. “You’re going to have to find a way to deal with it if she accepts the position.”
I snorted. “Mark my words. You’ll regret this.”
“Thank you so much for your insight. Your warning is duly noted.”
He said it with a hint of sarcasm and that just made me angry. I thought about what I could say to make him as angry as I was. “I don’t want to wear your collar this weekend.”
But my words didn’t have the desired effect on him. He calmly looked me in the eyes. “That won’t be an issue. I’m not going to allow you to wear my collar until you work through the trust issues you have with me.”
“What?” I asked, certain I’d heard him wrong.
“You can’t wear my collar if you don’t trust me. So until you can once again believe that I’m trustworthy, you won’t be wearing my collar.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It is,” he insisted. “You have to trust me in all things before you accept my collar. There’s no room for doubt.”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
It was like he didn’t hear me. “And I was going to tell you later, but I’ll go ahead and tell you now. I’ll be home late tomorrow because I have a late meeting with Charlene.”
“You’re meeting with her?”
“I’m expecting her to accept my offer.”
There was little else he could have said that would have made me angrier. “So will you be going out to dinner after to celebrate?”
“Damn it, Abby.”
“I think it’s a reasonable question.”
“I take issue with your definition of ‘reasonable.’”
“And yet you haven’t answered my question.”
“No,” he said in a cold voice. “I’m not having dinner with her. I’ll be coming home to my wife and children. Because that is what I want and this is my place.” He stood up. “Why don’t you go on to bed? I’ll be in the guest room tonight.”
“I really think that’s going overboard.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. “I’m giving you time to think, because I know you’ll search for the truth and when you find it, it’ll lead you back to me.”
I tossed and turned all night. He’d been wrong about one thing: being away from him hadn’t soothed or calmed me. It made me only more irritable. I’d think about him meeting with Charlene and I’d punch my pillow.
The first time I heard the sound, I thought I had imagined it. But it continued, softly and sweetly and when I realized what it was, my eyes filled with tears.
Nathaniel was playing the piano.
Though he played well, there were only two reasons why he’d play in the middle of the night: he was angry or he was troubled. His mood dictated his song choice, so the melancholy, hauntingly beautiful melody he picked meant it wasn’t anger he was working through.
Two o’clock was late, though. Had he been unable to get to sleep, just like me? I could slip downstairs and sit with him while he played. That might help us both.
Then it hit me: maybe he wasn’t up late because he couldn’t sleep. Maybe he was up late because he’d been talking with Charlene.
I pulled the covers up and buried my head under the pillow. Anything to get away from the music.
* * *
He left for work early the next morning, so by the time I got up he’d already left the house. I put on a happy face for the kids, but as soon as I dropped Elizabeth off at preschool, Henry and I drove over to Felicia and Jackson’s house.
Jackson took Henry when we arrived and motioned with his head toward the bedroom. “She’s in there. Be careful.”
I was willing to bet I was in a bad enough mood to handle anything negative she had to say. And we’d known each other long enough for her to know my moods. Either that or Nathaniel was right when he told me I should never play poker.
As I thought, Felicia picked up on it as soon as I sat down next to her bed.
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” she said.
She was propped up in bed, surrounded by pillows and what appeared to be balls of yarn, tangled up in knots, somehow attached to knitting needles. I couldn’t tell if she had actually knitted anything.
I ignored her question and pointed to the unidentified blob of yarn. “What is that?”
She shoved everything to the end of the bed and covered it with a blanket. “A very, very bad idea. Jackson thought if I taught myself to knit, it’d give me something to occupy my mind while I’m stuck here all day.”
“Didn’t work, huh?”
“No, the only thing occupying my mind is constructing new ways to torture him with yarn. Or knitting needles.”
I laughed. Poor Jackson. “How many have you come up with so far?”
“Forty-two. I wrote them down; want to see?”
I had a feeling she was serious. “I’ll pass.”
She shrugged. “I told him this was it. I’m finished after this one. The uterus is closed.”
“I told Nathaniel the same thing after Henry was born.”
“Not going to go for number three?”
“I don’t think the kids should outnumber the adults.”
“Yes, well,” she said. “It helps that Jackson never really grew up.”
“You wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Her smile gave away her thoughts before she spoke them. “No, I wouldn’t. I love the big oaf with all my heart. Only for him would I be doing this”—she pointed to her belly—“again.”
Felicia didn’t enjoy being pregnant. She said she could deal with it because she knew it wouldn’t last forever. I, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed both of my pregnancies. I loved putting my hand over my belly, feeling the life growing inside me. Knowing Nathaniel and I had created something bigger than ourselves.
“So tell me what you’ve been up to lately,” she said.
She wasn’t typically one to ask how others were doing. Her request caught me slightly off guard. But as I sat beside her bed, she daintily put her hands in her lap and looked for all the world like a queen. Her head tilted to the left a tiny bit.
“I’m not going anywhere. I have all day,” she said.
“I had a call from WNN. They had me come in and talk about a new position.”
One of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”
“On TV. Well, once a week at least.”
“What for?”
“A tie-in for the blog.”
She gave a low whistle. “It’s not enough to write about the kinky sex. You have to go on television and talk about it?”
“Felicia,” I chided. “We’re talking me. On TV. Some excitement would be nice.”
“Yes, and now when you walk down the street or go shopping, everyone will know you as the BDSM lady.”
“They’re going to disguise me.”
“Then you’ll be the mysterious BDSM lady.”
“Who won’t be recognized walking down the street or shopping,” I added.
�
��There’s that.” She narrowed her eyes. “Tell me what you’re really doing here.”
“I came by to see you.” My words sounded rushed and made up to my own ears. “Why would you even question that?”
“You’ve been twisting your wedding band the entire time you’ve been here.”
I looked down to see she was right. Without realizing what I was doing, I’d been rotating my wedding band between my thumb and forefinger. I turned the band one last time.
“Nathaniel and I had a fight.” I shook my head, remembering. “Or it would have been a fight if he hadn’t slept in a separate room.”
“You want to talk about it?”
I didn’t think I did. I had never been one to make idle chitchat or complain to others about Nathaniel. Not only would doing so have been an insult to him. I also thought it unfair to the people I would complain to. Why should I burden them with all the negative stuff in my marriage? Because that’s mostly what the women I knew did. Then later when I’d be around the person I complained to, everything felt awkward. At least on my side.
“No,” I replied. “I don’t want you jaded next time you see him.”
“Okay, suit yourself.”
Jackson stuck his head in the doorway. “Hey, Abby, I was getting the kids a snack—can I get you something to eat or drink?”
Nathaniel’s cousin was a huge block of a man, but he had a charming smile and a playful manner. In fact, I couldn’t remember ever seeing him angry or with anything other than a grin or smile lighting up his face. It went without saying, he was great with kids. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Why don’t you and Nathaniel and the kids come have dinner tonight? We haven’t seen you guys for ages.”
It was so tempting. I loved being around Felicia and Jackson, and their kids were a delightful source of entertainment. But it’d be awkward considering the issues Nathaniel and I were having.
“I better not,” I told him. “I’m really tired and Nathaniel said he might be late tonight. He has a meeting in the city.”
Of course, Felicia’s ears perked up at that.
“All right, well, when you talk to your husband, have him call me. We’ll work something out.” He crossed the room to where Felicia still sat up and brushed his lips against her cheek. “Ready to eat?”