"You spent a lot of time together?" Malcolm asked.
My husband glanced at me over his shoulder. "The weekends I've been gone? I wasn't just with Jimmy, like I'd told you the other night. I was helping with the movies, too."
I pressed my hand to my forehead, trying to ease the tension there. "When did he tell you the truth?"
"Who he really was?" Drake scrubbed his hand over his face as he turned fully around. "Only last week. I swear. He'd been insisting on meeting you for some time now. I had no idea he'd been stringing me along all these months. Getting close once he found out you were my wife."
My sigh of relief came out ragged. He hadn't been intentionally deceitful for months like Darryl had suggested. Well, not about Jimmy, that is.
"When we met in February," Drake continued, "he said he'd been living the 24/7 lifestyle with his partner for almost a year and asked if I had a partner to try it with. I told him I was married and showed him your picture. He made a flippant comment about asking if you still liked to be spanked. When I asked him what he meant, he pointed out that I said we'd been married a few months. He just wondered if my wife still enjoyed the submission as much as she had when we were dating. At the time, it made sense. But after he told me you had been together? I finally understood why he was asking."
"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" I held my tears at bay, but just barely. "Why did you invite them to dinner? Especially knowing what you do about my past?"
Drake turned away again. He wasn't as successful as I was. I heard him sniffling as he spoke.
"Because I believed him when he said he'd only plead guilty to save you from more embarrassment. Yes, he'd gotten a little rough with you, but it had been an accident. He hadn't realized you were really in pain. He'd realized the error of his ways and had set his mind to improving himself. Becoming a better Master. And he wanted the chance to apologize to you. But he was afraid you wouldn't agree to dinner if you knew he was the one coming. He told me later that night that he'd talked to you. All was good."
"He's a fucking liar! He was smug. He humiliated me. I tried to explain it you, but you wouldn't listen." My voice cracked. I felt the first tear on my cheek. Then another. "Didn't anything he told you to do sound wrong? Irrational? Like making me quit my job?"
"In hindsight, yes." Drake made his way to the empty chair beside the couch. Beside me. "But at the time, it made sense. I was deluded."
I was glad that Darryl had moved to sit on my other side, though he was mostly an observer in this diatribe. The mere knowledge of his presence was encouraging. I didn't have to handle this alone. Especially since Malcolm seemed preoccupied with calming Becca down. I could hear his soft whispers. I was familiar with his methods.
I stared as Drake reached out and took my hand that I'd limply laid on the armrest. I felt his warm skin wrap around mine. Part of me wanted to pull away, but I refrained. I studied his long, thick fingers. Thought of how they'd aroused and soothed me countless times over the years since I'd met him. They'd never intentionally harmed me against my will. Not like Jimmy's had. Yet as I'd told Malcolm this morning, one could still be hurt on the inside. Drake's words—or lack thereof—had already done so much damage.
"I know it doesn't excuse anything." Drake's eyes were shiny as I looked up at him, his lower lip trembling. "But as you well know, he has a way of dropping subtle hints. You don't always realize he's convincing you to change until you already have. Other than Malcolm, I'd never met anyone who'd been in the role of Master longer than I have been. So when Jimmy offered to give me some pointers, I was all ears. He told me that by being more controlling, I would only heighten our bond. Full submission is what makes the slave happiest. If she is working outside the home, she cannot be completely happy because she isn't able to put all of herself into serving her Master. If I eliminated the distraction, you would feel less stress about our roles and would eventually be happier. Remember, all I knew about the 24/7 lifestyle I learned from him. Again, it's no excuse, but the changes required to get that deeper commitment just made sense. I was wrong. I know it now."
"Any stress I had was about your decision to change us!" I was sobbing now. "I thought what we had was good. I was already happy."
Drake squeezed my hand. "I see that now."
"I admit, it is partially my fault, too."
"Daphne, don't," Malcolm said, his voice low. Firm. Apparently, he had been listening still.
I shook my head. "No, Malcolm. I didn't tell Drake all of the details about Jimmy. We've always had the habit of letting bygones be bygones. Maybe if I had been more upfront, he would have been better prepared. Seen through Jimmy's lies sooner. Our decision to not discuss our history with previous lovers is a big factor in all of this. I agreed to remain silent. It definitely didn't help."
Malcolm sat down in the empty chair, the chair where Drake had started his cathartic meltdown. He frowned as he propped his elbows on the padded arms and steepled his hands beneath his chin. He held my gaze as he seemed to contemplate my words. There was no sound except for the ticking of the clock on the mantle, as if everyone were holding their breath. I know I was.
Then he nodded, which surprised me. "You said it yourself just yesterday. The past in the past. We can't change what has happened. We can only move forward."
The question was, how the hell did we do that now?
I could see why Becca said she liked to hide up in the observation room. It was very peaceful. With the windows opened to the sky, the sound of the ocean and the vast expanse above made me feel as if I was in my own private world. Especially at night.
It had been three days since Drake had made his confession. Since I'd spoken to him. He'd returned to California due to work. Malcolm and Becca had insisted I remain behind. I'd thanked them profusely and stayed out of their way as much as possible.
But Drake was coming back Friday night. I had a decision to make, as did he. A life-changing one that seemed to be harder to determine the more I thought about it. Two more days to ruminate on if I still wanted to be married...to be submissive to Drake Rockland.
I sipped my glass of strawberry lemonade, wishing it was wine. For the first time, I regretted not telling Drake to put on a damn condom three weeks ago. But neither of us could change that. I had to face the consequences of my actions, come what may.
The truth he'd dealt had been brutal. Unexpected. And it had rocked my already unsettled world. I wish I'd known the guilt my new husband had been dealing with. I could have supported him. Possibly prevented the further devastation Jimmy had brought upon our family.
While Drake was far from blameless, he'd had good intentions. He'd tried so hard to do what he thought was right for us. But his plan had backfired. Instead of a new mentor, he'd found a wolf in sheep's clothing. And he'd been ripe for taking the bait. In the end, instead of strengthening the bond between us, he'd pushed me away.
It had evolved so slowly, I had been complacent and not realized the trouble we were in until it was almost too late. I'd also been determined that I would stick it out with him no matter what. I loved him too much to leave. Before I knew Jimmy had reentered my life, I had been very close to accepting that I would take whatever Drake threw at me just to be with him. Even if that included his fist.
Thankfully, he had not gone down that dark path to physical abuse. I hadn't seen the sadistic side like I had with Jimmy. But that didn't stop me from wondering if he was capable of it.
I was still wounded by his words. Broken. Before he'd left, he'd apologized again for his secrecy as tears streamed down his face. That he hadn't wanted to hurt me. He'd begged me to forgive him. I'd not made any promises.
Now as I stared out at the blanket of stars, I ruminated on the events of Friday night. Jimmy had come into the kitchen after dinner. I'd been loading the dishwasher with a little more force than necessary, and I hadn't heard him come up behind me. He'd trapped me against the counter with his body, covering my mouth with one hand to stifle my
scream, his other arm wrapping around my chest.
He'd roughly turned my head so I could see him. Laughed as I'd struggled to get away. Pressed his body lewdly against mine. Said I was as feisty as ever. Asked me if I'd missed him.
When I'd started to cry, he'd tightened his grip and hissed that I'd made his life a living hell. If I had thought it was bad before with him, I had no idea what he could do now. It had been karma that he'd met Drake. I had better remain on my toes and be a good little slave, because a husband had the right to put me in my place...and the police would be less likely to believe me a second time.
He had been fondling my breasts throughout. Just when I had felt his hand sliding down my stomach, we'd heard Drake calling for me. Jimmy had smacked my ass and left me leaning over the sink, both arms gripping the lip of the counter to stay upright.
I'd recovered enough to sit in the living room throughout the next hour while the men chatted. I'd even managed a smile every time Drake looked my way. Jimmy completely ignored me. His partner, Monique, sat beside me on the couch, neither of us talking. As if we were robots waiting for our next command. I had agreed to a 24/7 lifestyle, not the 1950s household, which I'd read had a large following within the BDSM community. But what could I do?
Although he'd acted like I wasn't there, Jimmy's words had been intended for my ears. He'd told Drake he needed to step it up if he was the one in charge. That if I couldn't submit the way Drake wanted and needed me to, I could be cast aside. First and foremost, I was his wife second because I'd come into the marriage already submitting. As he said he'd impressed so many times before, I was Drake's willing slave. That was a fact I'd already learned from my previous relationship with him; I just had to have it reinforced every now and then. Because if I couldn't remember a simple instruction to make a meal for four, well, I should be taught a lesson and given an ultimatum. I shouldn't expect my husband to tolerate my insubordination and remain under his roof.
No matter what either of them said, Jimmy hadn't changed one fucking bit. If anything, he'd become more malicious in his ways. Gotten better at manipulating. I'd just never imagined my husband would be one of those more susceptible people.
As soon as Jimmy had left, Drake had ordered me to the basement. He'd told me how disappointed he was in me. That he believed my act of disobedience had been deliberate. I'd turned to him before entering the main room—as I was to be silent until I was allowed to speak once I'd entered it—and denied his accusation. Said that he'd never told me we were having guests for dinner. That the man he'd let into our house had been the one person I had ever loathed in this entire world.
My knees had buckled when Drake admitted he knew JD was Jimmy. When he'd said that everyone deserved a second chance, and I should accept Jimmy's apology as we were going to be seeing much more of him.
That had been the pivotal point. I'd known there was nothing I could say that would change Drake's mind. So I'd set my mind to think of something I could do instead.
Both Drake's and Jimmy's words had fueled my anger as I was led to the private room to be chained up in the desired position. I'd focused on them while Drake flogged and fucked me—with a condom, of course, although I knew it was too late—until it was our bedtime and he intentionally stopped short of my orgasm as punishment for not listening to him when he gave me very important instructions. For embarrassing him.
I had let my anger fester even more while I curled on my side facing away from him in bed, wanting to cry but forcing myself not to lest he hear me and punish me more. I'd wanted to tell him over an intimate dinner that he was going to be a daddy. But Jimmy had ruined it. He'd ruined everything.
I hadn't slept at all, fearful that something would happen to derail my plan before I could put it into action. I had to leave so I could think clearly. To devise a way to get Drake to see that Jimmy was the same person he'd always been so we needed him out of our lives as soon as possible. Ultimately, I needed to determine what had gone wrong with our marriage...and if there was any hope in salvaging it. I'd never been so happy to hear that six AM alarm buzzing.
Even though I couldn't change what had happened, I couldn't help thinking about it. As the evening breeze tousled my hair now, I wondered if I would have married Drake had I known all of the details about his betrayal. What I would have done if I'd found out sooner about Jimmy.
"Can I join you?" Becca asked, popping her head through the trapdoor in the floor.
"Sure." I set my glass aside and sighed. "It's beautiful up here. Please tell me if I'm monopolizing your private space."
"Monopolize away." Becca pulled the other lounge chair closer to mine. "How are you doing?"
I shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I've had a couple of days to process everything. I'm still very angry."
"Because my brother cheated on you? He came after you? Or because of Jimmy?"
"None of the above."
"Really?"
"I'm mad that he felt he couldn't talk to me. About any of it." I sniffled and cleared my throat, trying to draw the tears back in but failing because I felt one slide down my cheek. "We used to talk about everything. But lately? I'm not privy to what's going on his head. And I want to be again. It shouldn't matter that I'm his submissive. I'm still a human being. I'm his wife, his soulmate."
"I understand."
I was expecting her to get up and give me a hug. Instead, I heard her chair squeak as she sat back. We were both quiet for a several minutes. I closed my eyes and had almost drifted off to sleep when she spoke again.
"Malcolm and I have been talking."
I groaned inwardly. "I know. I know. I've outstayed my welcome. Hell, you're newlyweds, and I just showed up on your doorstep. But I can't go home right now. Not until I can figure out what to do next. I will make other arrangements. I promise. I'm sorry if I've—"
"Daphne, stop it. We're not kicking you out. You're welcome to stay as long as you need. You're family." She reached out, and I felt her fingertips graze my arm before her hand patted the top of mine. "But we do need to discuss where to go from here. Especially between you and Drake."
I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the chair so that I was facing her direction. The moonlight outlined her body as she reclined, her head turned toward me, hidden half in shadows. My chest tightened. She was right. Hiding from the truth didn't make it go away.
"Daphne, I need your agreement to at least hear us out before making any decisions."
I nodded. Then I realized she probably couldn't see me. "Yes. I'll listen."
"That's all we ask." Becca stood up and did give me that hug. Then she started down the ladder. "We'll be in the living room. Take your time."
I stared into the darkness of the night for awhile longer. So many thoughts ran through my head of what Becca was going to propose. I waffled between what my limits would be for each scenario...what I would or wouldn't do to save my marriage, even though that went against my submissive nature. In the end, I figured there was only one way to find out. Worst case, I would decline whatever they suggested and look up my old roommates in Chicago to see if I could crash with them, wherever they were now.
I shut up the windows before descending to the sitting room below on the third floor. My heart was beating so fast as I continued to the main level. I was thankful Drake wouldn't be there tonight, but I knew I had to face him eventually. He was still my husband. And he would return this weekend.
For now, though, I took solace in being able to talk openly with Malcolm and Becca. I would hear them out. And hopefully, they would give me guidance for the future.
Becca and I spent Friday sunbathing. There was a group of four older couples a few yards away perched in those old aluminum, folding chairs with plastic armrests and the colorful, weaved webbing on the seats and backs reminiscent of the 1970s and 80s. They sat perpendicular to the water to avoid the strong wind currents and faced down the beach toward Ocean City with three large umbrellas stuck in the sand behind their line
of chairs.
We saw the group arrive this morning at the first house on the left as you entered the cul-de-sac. It was the smallest house, and it seemed out of place compared to the other houses around it. Maybe because it looked like it had been built a few decades before the others...and the dark color made it look dingy. Becca said the owner rented it out and only came around a couple of times a year. Outdated and neglected. Not what I would have expected for a beach house. Then again, I hadn't expected Malcolm and Becca's house to be as it was, either.
Two of the male guests had lugged a cooler while the women all seemed to carry a bag, a towel, and a book as they'd traipsed across the asphalt single-file and crossed over the pathway next to Malcolm and Becca's house. The remaining men had hauled the chairs and umbrellas. None of guests had moved since they'd staked their spot on the beach two hours ago. Such a carefree attitude with no hurried schedule or concrete plans other than to relax. I wish this trip had been that way for me.
CHAPTER TEN
After we'd gotten enough sun on both sides, Becca and I returned to the house. Malcolm made us crab cakes for lunch, and we sat out on the porch watching the ebb and flow of the waves while we ate. The visiting group was still in their spot down the beach. Off in the distance, we saw sails from several boats against the horizon line. The sky was clear and blue. It was idyllic. And I never wanted to leave.
It wasn't the first time this week that I envied my best friend and my sister-in-law. They seemed very content with their life out here. It didn't seem to bother them that I'd crashed on the last bit of uninterrupted time alone they would have for awhile since the university's fall semester would be starting soon for Malcolm. And Becca had said she needed to start on the next book in her trilogy now that they were settled in.
So far, I had managed to enjoy my day at the beach. But as the afternoon grew on, Drake's pending arrival lay heavily on my mind. Not just what he would think about the proposal I'd already heard about. But, more importantly, if he'd already chosen on his own to walk away from our relationship during this short time apart. I still wasn't sure how I felt about not being with him "'till death do us part."
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