by Aurelia Fray
“You think it was your kinky tastes that upset me?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Jeeze, Trey. Have you seriously not understood your betrayal these three years?” Her voice carried around the room. Relief flooded me. To see her so passionate, even if it was bottled-up anger, gave me hope. Anger was better than apathy.
“I did. I do. But I don't think you fully understood the scenario.”
“Ok. Let me explain. You told me you loved me. We shared everything about our lives, or so I thought. You moved into my room. We had a fucking fantastic sex life and then I came home to see you playing with another woman. One that you obviously had an intimate relationship with, sex or not,” she added as I motioned to argue. “You engaged in activities that I had no idea you were interested in, and did so in a space that you never once invited me into. You were living two lives.”
She was totally right. She had only stated the facts, and yet, for the first time, I saw her perspective clearly. I was a complete ass.
“Do you need me to explain how that made me feel?” she continued on a roll.
“I can guess.” I mumbled, embarrassed to have been so wrong all this time.
“I would rather you knew. I was devastated. You didn't think it was worth telling me. You obviously didn't find me enough of a woman to fulfil your needs. You allowed another woman into our home and shared your secrets with her instead of me.” She glared at me but her bubbling blue eyes betrayed the hurt beneath the anger. She blinked the welling tears away furiously.
“I am so sorry, Izzy. I am so so sorry. I thought you were disgusted with me. I thought I lost you because of who I was, not what I had done.”
“No. I was in shock. Seeing you with her. You should have just told me.”
“I didn't know if you would be receptive. I met Zara,” Izzy flinched at the name, “at a club two years before I met you. We both understood that it wasn't anything more than an occasional thing. She was married, but her husband didn't enjoy bondage or rough play. Zara needed it in the same way that I needed to—”
“Control? Dominate?” Izzy finished for me. She sat forward in her seat watching me. Something had shifted in her expression. She was interested. She was intrigued and completely turned on by the idea. I read it all over her. Her tells hadn't changed in the three years we’d been apart. She clenched her legs together, squeezing her pussy tight to feel the pulse at her clit. Her eyes widened. Her tongue wet her lips before her bottom teeth nibbled upon her upper lip. One hand remained squashed between her tight thighs as the other gripped the sofa arm.
“I had no idea—”
“What?” her glare narrowed.
“That you would be so,” I stalked towards her, drawn to her desire in a way that made me weak. She had no idea but she owned me and I fucking wanted her. “receptive,” I finished, kneeling down in front of her so my legs encompassed hers.
“What makes you think I'm receptive? You assume too much, Trey!”
“Isabella, don't bullshit me, baby. I can read you. You are written upon my heart. You are a part of me and I will always know you.” She pulled back in an unconscious attempt to protect herself. By creating space between us she was trying hide who she was, what she wanted, but she only revealed more to me. Layers and layers of hurt and distrust had entrenched her within the shell she had erected but, beneath it all, she was still my Izzy. I needed to prove she could trust me.
“It’s been a long time, Trey. I am not that little lovesick girl anymore.”
“So I see, but Izzy—” I leaned in and brushed my lips across hers whilst I breathed in her skin. I had missed her scent. Fruity and sweet.
“Hmm?” She hummed against my mouth. The heat of her flesh beneath me was clouding my mind, just as I knew my proximity was clouding hers.
“I have never wanted you more than I do now, and I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you.” I traced my lips over hers. She pushed forward to cement the kiss and I pulled back. Her baby-blues abruptly obscured behind a mist of betrayal and I didn't know if she was more hurt by my initial touch or the rejection of our almost kiss.
“I am not being fair. I want you and that is clouding your instincts.” I quickly explained. The sting of rejection had pulled up her defences once more.
“You think too highly of yourself Trey. I do what I want, when I want,” she said rigidly.
“And is this what you want? Five minutes after seeing each other for the first time in three years and you want to kiss as if nothing happened?” It was exactly what I wanted, but I knew Izzy better than that. She had too much stubborn pride to let that happen and not resent it, and I didn't want us to end up in a worse place than we currently were.
“No.” She pouted adorably. I ran a finger across her jutted-out lower lip.
“Come down and watch tonight's gig. It’s a warm up for the big one on Friday. I'd like for you to be there,” I asked, almost begged.
“I don't know.”
“It's up to you, but it would mean a lot to me. Oh, and here.” I held out my room key. I knew Izzy would understand the significance. It was an invitation to strip me bare and know me in my entirety. She took the key with trembling fingers, appearing surprised that I was doing this, inviting her in. I nodded to reassure her then strode purposefully toward the door. She needed the space to think and so did I.
“Nothing is out of bounds to you. If you have questions, I will answer them all after the gig tonight. I know it is a long time coming and maybe it is even too late, but you deserve to know. If that is what you want.” I was relieved to hear the words come out so calm and controlled because, for the first time in a long time, I was terrified. Nevertheless, I promised myself I would do this. I had lived the last three years in a twisted kind of limbo, running away from my fears whilst simultaneously sinking in them. At least by the end of this night, I would know where I stood.
FIVE.
~Izzy~
I sat on the sofa for way too long after Trey left. I was cold, tired, and hungry. I stank of accumulated sweat, fear and lust. I really needed a shower.
I turned the little key in my hand. Both bedrooms had locks on them, but when Trey and I started dating, I hadn't seen the point of locking my door. Whether he was in my room or his, it didn't matter, I trusted him in my space. I trusted him to look after me and keep me safe. It always hurt that he didn't return that trust. Until now.
My thoughts were fluttering wings in my head, each idea fighting for the right to fly. The moral decision of whether or not to accept his offer was the most dominant argument. I didn't know if I had any right to go through his things. Or if I even needed to.
I made a decision.
I wouldn't go in. His life was his own. How he lived it then and how he lived it now were his business. With the decision made my head eased a little but I needed a strategy. I needed some kind of plan that would help me keep it together around Trey. Admittedly, the anger of his betrayal had worn away ages ago. I came to realise that, although he shouldn’t have lied to me, in a strange way he was trying to maintain the status quo between us. He cared about our relationship enough to protect what we had. Sure, he went about it all wrong but I came to understand it. Eventually.
After I let the worst of the hurt go, I found myself curious about his proclivities. My initial research unearthed unsavoury and completely untrue ‘facts’ across the web. Nevertheless, I tried again, determined that the man I knew wasn’t the freak these idiots labelled him. Eventually I found a site and a few people who were willing to share their experiences with me and the more I learned, the more I wanted to learn. I wasn’t brave enough to try anything out, mostly because I needed a trustworthy partner to experiment with. BDSM wasn’t something I would enter into with a stranger and just cross my fingers that I woke up okay the next day. The whole nature of Dominance and submission was based on trust. I trusted no one more than I trusted Trey and therein lay my dilemma. For the longest time I wanted him back. I
wanted to turn back the clock and relive that awful day all over again knowing what I know now.
I figured Trey's serendipitous return was my chance. If we could talk things through, sort them out and move forward, perhaps we could try again. If he still wanted me, of course.
I looked at the key in my hand. This proved it, didn’t it? Why let me into his life if he didn’t want me to be a long-term part of it? The real question was in what capacity would I remain? Friend? Lover? Sub?
I was getting ahead of myself. Firstly, I needed to shower then find clothes suitable for the club, something sexy and eye catching. I wanted to make him desire me. I would go to his set tonight and then give him the opportunity to talk later.
After that, it was out of my hands.
SIX.
The club was heaving. Despite this being a private show, there were at least a hundred people piled into the tight backroom. Sam's club was split by a clever folding wall, which allowed her to divide the huge space into two smaller areas during weeknights, or open it up into one large space on weekends. Not only did it mean she could host a public bar and private functions simultaneously but that she could handle live music during the week nights while still keeping her regulars happy out in the front bar.
The bar was how I met her way back when I first left university. I saw a sloppy bit of cardboard pressed up against the street-side window. It read ‘Help wanted. Ask inside for Sam.’ I sauntered inside, feeling bold, and bounced myself up onto a barstool. I waited for the broad-shouldered, brown-haired, tasty bit of flesh behind the bar to turn around and notice me.
“You know we are closed, right, Short-stuff?” he said without turning around.
“Your door is open and the sign said to ask about the job, so here I am.”
“You're here about the bar work? Have you ever tended bar before?”
“No, but I am a quick learner and I need the cash.”
“We don't pay much.”
“I don't mind. I lose my apartment next week and if I don't get something soon I am going to have to sleep on the street. You wouldn't want to do that to a poor little thing like me would you, Sam?”
The hunk eyed me with unveiled curiosity. “Hmm emotional blackmail won't win you any points with me, Short-stuff.”
“Really? Heartless are you? Well, what else can I possibly offer a handsome man like you to secure the job?” I teased, totally out of my depth but desperate. He laughed at me, his great booming laugh rattled the bottles behind the bar.
“Hey Sam!” He yelled, tilting his head towards the storeroom behind the bar. “I think we might have found a new barmaid.”
“What's that? You've finally found one you like, Trey?” A female voice yelled back as she made her way into the bar.
“She's got more spunk than the other graduates that fall through the door,” he returned, still looking at me.
“Not yet I've not, but that sounds like fun,” I mumbled quietly, although not quietly enough because Trey looked up, cocked a single brow, and grinned.
“Hi there!” Sam smiled, offering me her hand across the wide mahogany bar. “I am Samantha James, I'm the owner of the bar and employer of this miscreant. Why don't you come through to the office and we can talk properly.” And that was it. I got the job. Later, when I lost my university accommodation, I moved into the apartment above the bar with Trey.
The bar hadn't changed in all the years between. The live bands that played here over the years kept it contemporary. The club had become an unofficial Mecca for bands and record labels alike. You knew if you played here, you had either made it or were about to. Sam hadn't picked a bad band yet.
The folding wall was closed tonight. Sam played hostess, flitting between the two zones and shaking hands with people more suited to desk-work than a metal gig. The agents were all in tonight. It looked good for Trey and the band.
“You going through or what?” A familiar voice whispered in my ear. “You won't be able to watch me air-fuck you from here, Cutie.”
“Xadian!” I exhaled his name on a happy breath. I hadn't realised how badly I had missed the other band members until Xade's familiar scent washed across me. They had been like brothers to me, but they were loyal to Trey and for that reason alone I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them in three years.
“It is good to see you again, Izzy,”
“You too, Xade.”
“So are you coming through?”
“Yeah. I just needed a little Dutch courage first.”
“Well drink up because we’re on in five.”
“Then why are you out front? Shouldn't you be getting in the zone or something?”
“I was looking for someone.”
“Oh yeah?”
“But it looks like she wasn't as brave as you.” He glanced around the space once more before a little glimmer of hope faded from his eyes. Xade took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh of air. “Oh well. He loves you, you know. He might not have said it, but he does. The last three years have eaten at him. I know that's not your concern. He fucked up, I get that, but he has suffered for it too. Hear him out, yeah? Even if it is just to bring you both closure. You both need that to move on.”
“I know. I will.”
“Glad to hear it. We all fuck up sometimes. Some of us worse than others. It's how you make up for the mistakes that counts. Well, I will see you out there.” He raised a hand in mock salute and sneaked in behind the bar, heading towards the offices and backstage area. It bugged me to see him so hurt and not know what made him that way but anything could have gone down in the last three years and I wouldn't know.
I ordered a few more drinks before I mustered the courage to step through the divide. Sam glanced up at me from her seat by the door. She sat with the suits in one of the booths lining the walls. I nodded to her and then disappeared into the crowd. I kept myself close to the back and leaned against the cool panels of the folding wall. The band were already most of the way through the set. I had missed the majority of their performance. Regretfully, I watched as they got ready for their final track of the night.
The crowd cheered and catcalled as Trey stepped up with an acoustic guitar. To my surprise, Trey took to the mic and, without the backing of the band, began to sing. It was a ballad, but it was not the departure from their usual sound that had me hyperventilating, it was the lyrics.
That day embedded in my brain
Burrows like poison through my aching heart
The day you walked in on me with her
And I shattered us apart.
I never meant to break you.
I never meant to make you cry.
I never wanted to drive you
Into the arms of some other guy
But I fucked it up
I put my needs before you
because, Angel, I just never knew
That all I ever needed was you.
Every day since has been a fight
Running from the pain, I caused you.
Praying for the chance to make it right
But I was too afraid to ask you to stay.
I never meant to break you.
I never meant to make you cry.
I never wanted to leave you
Or for us to have to say goodbye.
But I fucked it up
And I never got the chance to say
That, Angel, when I broke you,
I broke me too.
Oh Angel, it broke me too.
I struggled to see him through a veil of tears, but I knew he was looking right at me. People turned to stare. Some cooed and others glared. I didn’t care about them or what they thought.
“I know you didn't use the key. You wouldn’t. Go. Do it now, Angel. Take it all out and lay it out for us. This time I’m not leaving until I make it right.” Trey’s silken voice touched me through the crowd. On trembling legs, I staggered to the exit. Sam offered me an encouraging smile as I passed her. I smiled weakly back. I hurried through the
front bar and out into the cool night air.
I needed to breathe. I needed a second to compose myself and not let Trey sweep me off my feet with one song. I tried to remind myself that he wasn't asking for a way back. He was only promising to fix the damage. Did he realise that it wouldn't be enough? That the only way I would be fixed was to have him be mine or be rid of him for good? This half-life, living without him and still expecting him to come home to his room, his stuff, his bed, was killing me.
The cold air slammed against me, pushing me further into the glass wall of the club.
I tugged my phone from my pocket and called Kye.
“What do you want?” His tone was biting but I needed him. I swallowed my guilt. I swallowed my annoyance too.
“Trey has apologised. He wants me to meet him. We are going to go through everything.” I spluttered. My words tumbled out too fast but Kye heard me clearly.
“Shit. Is that what you want?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“Izzy, be sure. I can’t watch you go through that again.”
“I love him. I always have. I want him back and you know I’m okay with his lifestyle. It’s just—”
“What?”
“Am I doing the right thing? Am I making it too easy on him? Does it make me weak that I want him back?”
“Oh Izzy! Weak? You are the most stubborn idiot I know. You spent three years without him despite having forgiven him in the first week of being apart. You refused to track him down. You tried to move on. I think you have punished both of you enough for his mistake. If you can see past what he did, and you can learn to trust him again, then fuck what anyone else thinks.”
“He still needs to learn a few things about being in a relationship.”
“No kidding, but if you don’t make the effort to teach him then how is he going to learn? Listen, Izzy, you know you need to give it a second chance. If you don’t you will regret it, but don’t just accept him because he apologises and then expect everything to go back to the way it was. Nothing is the same the second time around. If you go for it again, do it on your terms. No one needs to take shit in their lives no matter how lonely it gets sometimes.” His words were harsh but his tone soft.