Dark Secret

by Summer Cooper

  It still looked like more of a letter than a contract, and I’d decided to leave it that way. I was on my third rendition of the thing and still didn’t have it exactly right. I had a row of promises, a row of things I wanted from her, and a date at the end. There were two places to sign, my name and hers.

  I went to my laptop and opened it. I found my writing program and opened that up.

  I made nice, neat tables and filled them in then added some text.

  It still read like a proposal, and that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted a contract. I went and found a copy of the old one on my laptop’s hard drive and opened it. This was more like it. I started to edit things, took out the part about money altogether, left in the parts about privacy, and started to add in stuff from the new one. That just made it messy, and just as I thought I’d say fuck it and learn to live without the damned thing, Stephanie came home.

  “Hi, babe,” I called out and shut the laptop. I didn’t want her to see the contract yet.

  “Hey, Dylan. How are you, babe?” She sounded tired, but there was an extra sadness there.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” I took her hand, and she came to sit on my lap at the kitchen table.

  “Nothing, just a few problems I have to deal with.” She sank into me, her face warm against my neck. I felt a dampness too and wondered if she’d been crying.

  “Anything I can help with?” I hugged her close and let her just relax into me. It felt good, even if my back did protest the extra weight.

  “Not really, no. Just … stupidity.” She kissed my cheek and got up. “I shouldn’t be sitting on you with your back like that. How did your day go?”

  She pulled her coat off, threw it in the bedroom, and came back to sit with me.

  “Wine?” I asked and got up to get a glass for her and took a bottle from the fridge. I couldn’t have it with my medicine, but I thought she needed some of it.

  “Yes, please.”

  “My day went fine,” I said once I sat. “The lawyer came. We got papers signed and stuff done. It looks good.”

  “I’m glad for you. I know you’ve waited a long time to get this settled.” She sipped her wine then frowned. “What happens once you’ve found a place? Do you go back to Kansas?”

  Ah, that question had finally occurred to her.

  “I’ll be here for a while. I want to get everything settled and opened, and then I’ll figure out where to go next. I’m normally in Kansas or California, but I’ve neglected both a little lately. They’ll need to be checked on soon, and the resort in Washington too.” I blew air through my cheeks at the thought of all that travel. “I’ll be here for a long time, though.”

  “Good,” she said and finished her wine. “Are you hungry?”

  “We can order out if you’re tired? I don’t want you to exhaust yourself.”

  “I’m fine. Besides, cooking soothes me.” She brushed her fingers through my hair and smiled. “It reminds me of happy times.”

  “I’m surprised you know how to cook.”

  “Oh, why’s that?” She looked confused, and I wondered if I’d broken one of our unspoken rules. Don’t ask about my past, and I won’t ask about yours.

  “It’s just, you seem well educated. Most of the time, people who spend so much time on education rarely know how to cook.” Whew, hopefully I’d sidestepped that one.

  “I spent summers at home, with the cook’s daughter in the kitchen. I’d sneak down during the nights, and we’d cook up a storm.” I saw a sweet expression cross her face as the memories replayed. Hmm, a live-in cook. She definitely came from money then.

  Not that I was judging, but Stephanie was a mystery I wanted to untangle. Every now and then she’d give me a clue. I didn’t want to tell my secrets, although she could look online and find most of them. They weren’t actually secrets, just things I didn’t want to talk about. She may have already done that, for all I knew. If she did, she hid it well.

  She got up suddenly, a move that startled me. “Excuse me a minute. I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back.”

  I heard the tap go on in the bathroom and wondered. What had upset her so much? I was almost certain she was crying. I waited for her, and when twenty minutes had passed, I went to the door. “Stephanie?”

  “I’m okay. I’ll be out in a minute,” she shouted, her voice strangled by tears.

  “Let me in, babe.” I held my hand to the door and turned the knob. She didn’t protest, so I went in. She was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a towel clutched to her face.

  “Don’t look at me,” she said from behind the towel. I pulled that down and took her in my arms. Her face was red, her eyes were still streaming, and her nose was stuffed up.

  “I won’t look at you, but you’re still beautiful, my darling. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. I know we both have our secrets, but let me hold you, at least.”

  “Nobody’s ever … fuck!” She gripped at the panels of my shirt and sobbed deep and hard.

  I’d break whoever had made her cry, as soon as I found out who it was. Had she been about to say nobody’s ever held her while she cried before? I’d break her family too, if any of them were still alive.

  Fucking bastards, to leave such a wonderful person out in the cold, with nobody to lean on when she cried. It occurred to me that maybe some of Stephanie’s strength and stoicism came from never being loved properly.

  “Have you never had anyone to hold you when you cried, babe?” I asked, breaking past my own barrier to invade her privacy.

  “No, I’ve just, I’ve never, well, no.” She kind of skated around an answer, before she finally just gave me a simple one. I pushed her hair back and looked at her in her watery gray, but still lovely, eyes.

  “You do now.” I picked her up and carried her to the bed, to our bed. “You were here for me when I needed you. I’ll be here for you. Always.”

  I crawled into bed with her and held her until she fell asleep. She didn’t sleep long, but she needed it. When she came back into the kitchen an hour later, I’d left the bed and had a simple meal on the stove. I put a pile of spaghetti on each plate and spooned some sauce she’d made and left in the freezer.

  I was on my way back to the table when my left leg just gave out. It went totally dead, and I went down to my knees. I managed to save our dinner, but Stephanie and I stared at each other. I could feel the fear I knew I couldn’t hide. It was reflected in her eyes.

  “Dylan?” she asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

  She came and took the plates from me, and I leaned down to the floor. I moved around but could not get back up. My left leg was totally numb. Gradually, after a very long, terrifying wait, it came back to life.

  “Sciatica, I guess. I’ll, uh, I’ll call my doctor tomorrow. It’s fine now. Don’t worry.” I sat at the table and stared at my plate. I was too embarrassed to lift my eyes. I was also afraid to see pity there. I knew she would never be disgusted by any of this, but I knew she’d pity me. Pity might break me, and I wanted to avoid it, if I could.

  “Let’s eat. Really, I’m fine now.” I’d have to wipe up the floor later, some of the sauce had hit the tiles, but it would wait. For now, I had to sort Steph out. She had enough to worry about without worrying about me.

  There wasn’t a lot that could be done for me. Which was one of the reasons I’d wanted a contract. I didn’t want Stephanie to fall in love with a man who might not be around for the rest of her life. I took a deep sigh and ate a bite of my spaghetti. It wasn’t worth worrying about, and the spill had reminded me of something I’d tried really hard to forget.

  I wasn’t a whole man. I wasn’t completely sick, but I wasn’t well either. Stephanie didn’t need a burden in her life. I would become one eventually, and no young woman should be faced with that either.

  No, it was back to the contract after tomorrow. Maybe back to the doctor too. We took a long swim in the pool after that and spent some time reminding each other why we were together. Ste
phanie had an amazing body, and she knew how to use it well. In the supportive weight of the water, it was easier to move too, and I managed to get us both where we wanted to go with little effort.

  Later, after a shower and a kiss goodnight, I went back to my office and turned on my laptop. My symptoms were getting worse. I’d email the doctor and find out if he was worth the money I’d paid him. He wrote prescriptions for whatever I needed and sent them to whatever pharmacy I asked him to. His specialty was my problem and he knew travel wasn’t the greatest thing for me, so he did as I asked.

  I typed up an email, detailed what had happened, and fired it off to him. Not long after that, I got a reply. New medicine would be waiting for me at the pharmacy in the morning. Great, more medicine. I was hoping he’d tell me to increase one or the other that I was already on. Not add a new one in. Oh well, I decided. I might as well give it a try.

  Emily

  Dylan was in his office, trying to get some work done. He wanted to let me sleep in peace, but I doubt I’d get much sleep tonight. Not any that was restful anyway. I’d checked my mail, before I came up to the apartment last night.

  It was my habit to read the mail in my car before I went up, throw away what I didn’t need and hide the rest under my car seat until I could deal with it or take it home. Dylan was rarely in my car, but I didn’t want to leave mail in the glove box, just in case he checked in there for something. I didn’t want him to go looking for a napkin and find a letter with my real name on it. I still hadn’t figured out how to tell him that.

  I’d been in a good mood, going through the stack of envelopes when one caught my eye. It was from my brother. I’d thought it was odd that he sent me a letter, rather than emailing me, but when I read the contents, I understood why.

  My brother, the man who had been this demigod in my eyes, my whole life, had officially cut me out of the family. I was not to contact any of them, at any time, not even our parents. It was signed by my father and Trent.

  I didn’t know how he’d managed to get Dad to take his side on this, but he had. The rest of it was official documents, detailing how I’d still remain part of the family’s business dealings, but my role was as a silent, unheard, totally ignored partner. I didn’t exist, except for when it came to accounting details. I was no longer a member of the family.

  I knew it, Trent had said those words to me, but I hadn’t thought he’d go through with it. I thought he’d changed after he married and settled down. He’d become nicer, calmer, and much more loving. To the rest of the family, at least. Now, he thought I was a traitor and had disowned me. That cut me deeply.

  I’d cried in the car but had stopped after a while. I didn’t want anyone to see me crying like a baby in the parking garage, so I left the mail under my seat and went up to see Dylan. I’d tried to pretend everything was normal, but it wasn’t. It was terrible!

  I’d been comforted when he took me in his arms and tried to soothe me. Nobody in my life had ever done that for me. I couldn’t even remember my mother doing it. Not even when I was a little girl. There’d been an occasional hand on my arm, or an arm around my shoulders, but I couldn’t remember anyone ever hugging me to comfort me. Now, if they’d needed comfort, it had been totally different.

  I’d always been there, ready with my ears to listen and my arms to hug. That had never been returned, which was one of the reasons I’d walked away in the end. I’d chosen Dylan over my family, and this was my punishment. I should have known it was coming. Trent had always been capable of a little cruelty. He thought I’d betrayed the family somehow, so of course, he’d turned into super-dick.

  God, could I ever fix this? Did I want to? My family hadn’t exactly been the greatest people in the world to me. My mother had always been consumed by her devotion to my father, and my brothers were the kind who treated me like a baby, or a nuisance, until they’d needed a babysitter. When I’d put a stop to that, I’d suddenly become this thing that they didn’t understand.

  Now, I was really, truly alone. Except for Dylan and Roxie. My best friend and the man who was my … what? Lover? That just sounded silly to my often too pragmatic mind. He wasn’t my partner any more than he was my boyfriend. He’d been my Mr. Dark when I’d first met him, and then my sir. Now, he was Dylan. A real human being and not just a fantasy.

  Although, he did exceed my fantasies in many ways, which didn’t happen often. Most of the time, when I imagined what someone would be like, they were far from my daydreams, or events just weren’t as exciting as I’d imagined they would be. Dylan had brought fantasy to vivid life and had taken me well beyond those girlish daydreams. I just didn’t know what to call him.

  Now, as I snuggled down into my pillows, I tried to picture what life would be like in the future. No more noisy family gatherings or Christmas at the estate, that huge palace that my father owned. No more little faces looking up at me with happiness in their eyes when we played together. I wouldn’t see the love and need for comfort from one of my nieces or nephews when they had a nightmare that woke them up.

  I’d grown used to the noise of children and changing diapers. I laughed as I remembered just how many times I’d been peed on by baby boys. Even those times had made me smile, even though I’d been so lonely I could barely stand it. I’d have to find a way to fix all of this, eventually. Just as soon as I had settled things with Dylan. If we could settle it.

  It wasn’t just the contract, it was who I was. I just know he’ll think I used him or that my family used me to get to him. That was the furthest thing from the truth, and at this point in time, all I wanted to do was run away from it all. That would mean leaving Dylan, and I couldn’t do that. Not just because I’d come to need him as much as I needed air, but because something was wrong with him.

  That pain he’d been having was getting worse, and he seemed to tire much earlier than he had just weeks ago. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, and I had to respect his privacy for now. I kept my thoughts on Dylan, and eventually, despite my earlier thoughts that sleep would be impossible, fell into a peaceful dream.

  THE NEXT DAY PASSED QUICKLY. Dylan was out most of the day after lunch, and he didn’t come home until dinnertime. I’d gone out to the grocery store, too antsy to use the delivery service, and had met up with Roxie for a quick coffee before she had to go home and get ready for work. She listened as I told her about the letter Trent had sent, and then she shocked me.

  She put her hand over mine, squeezed it, and told me she’d be my family until Trent stopped being such a dick. It made my heart melt, and tears stung my eyes. I’d thanked her, and we’d both let the moment pass. It was easy to not feel so lonely now. Roxie and I had become friends the moment we met, but now, well, she really was almost like a sister to me.

  She’d let me into a world I’d wanted to explore, and she’d been there to see me through it. Now, she’d see me through this too. I loved her for it, I really did.

  I’d come back to Dylan’s place after that and had chicken cooking in a wok to add to the salad I’d prepared beforehand. I needed something else to go with it, though.

  “That smells delightful. What is it?” Dylan asked as he came up behind me. His arms slid around my waist to pull me back against him. I leaned my head back, and he kissed my neck.

  “Just some grilled chicken for a salad. Do you want something to go with it?” I turned in his arms to look at him, happy in my role of housewife for the moment.

  “Some of that French bread will go nicely with it, but I want to have you for dessert.” He nuzzled into my neck and tickled me. I laughed as I pushed him away.

  “Well, no dessert until you’ve had your dinner, my lord.” I winked at him and turned back to the chicken. He was in a good mood, the kind that meant he’d wanted to be playful. I’d be in for a night of fun then.

  He set the table, and we ate together quietly, but I kept looking up to see his eyes on me. There was desire there, and happiness, and I felt my body already responding to
it.

  “I think you should put that mask back on for me, Stephanie. There was something about fucking a woman whose face I couldn’t see that just made me, well, really fucking hard.”

  “Anything you like, sir.” I got up, cleaned the table off, washed up the few dishes we’d used, and went to sit in his lap. He pushed his chair back to make room for me and took me in his arms.

  “Do you know how perfect you are, pet?” His eyebrow quirked, a challenge added to his name for me.

  Did I want to play, the name and the eyebrow asked. I slid down from his lap and settled on my knees in the floor. “You tell me I am, sir, so it must be so.”

  “Good answer. Go get your mask and get ready for me.”

  My nipples went tight, and I felt heat begin to pool between my thighs. I did love his games. Only, it wasn’t always a game. Sometimes, every now and then, something inside both of us would flip, and the air around us would change. Times like now, when good moods instantly went from happiness to a need so strong, we couldn’t break free from it.

  I might be more than content with Dylan, but I still needed that strong hand that had drawn me to him in the first place. I went into the bedroom and looked around for my mask. It wasn’t in my drawer where I usually kept it. I heard my phone go off and glanced at it. I had an alert of some kind, so I checked it.

  I sat on the bed when I saw it. Ember, my other sister-in-law whose legal name was Bridget, had a new album out. Her greatest hits. I hit play on the video that accompanied the article. I’d only heard a few chords of it before I turned it off. A song about finding love in a gilded cage that you couldn’t break free from. Ember sang about how sweet that love was and how fulfilling it could be.

  Kind of like what I have with Dylan, I thought and felt my stomach twisted into a knot. I closed the video, put my phone down, and went to finish my preparations. I brushed out my hair, put on a black nightgown that Dylan had bought for me, and brushed my teeth.

  By the time Dylan came in, a pair of black silk ropes in his hands, I was ready for whatever he wanted to give me. “Make me yours, Dylan.”