“Miss Cole, can I get you anything while you wait? Tea? Coffee?”

I looked up at the pleasant and motherly face of Patricia Ward, Dr. Tumblin’s attentive receptionist. She had a soft voice that was calm and soothing. I suspected that was part of the reason she was hired. A glance around the waiting room would show more of the same. Calm and soothing. As if the muted pastels were a strategic design plan to make a patient relax; to make them feel like they weren’t about to go through an emotional cyclone upon entering the private office of Dr. Joseph P. Tumblin.

“Coffee would be fantastic, Patricia. Thank you,” I said.

I sat back in my chair and began to tap my foot, clocking the minutes until I would be called into Dr. Tumblin’s office. As we had in previous weeks, I spoke with him first, and then Alexander took a turn. After we each had our private sessions, Dr. Tumblin would sit down with us together to discuss what was talked about during our one-on-ones. I wasn’t sure if I liked the current arrangements, but Dr. Tumblin insisted we try it.

The receptionist came over to me with a cup a piping hot coffee. The aroma was like heaven to my nose. Handing me the cup, she pointed over to an area on her left.

“Cream and sugar is right over there on the minibar. Please, help yourself,” she told me before retreating back to her desk.

I stood and walked the few steps to where Patricia had pointed. Adding a few dollops of cream and an individual package of granulated sugar, I stirred the coffee absently while thinking about how Alexander might be reacting to the things I discussed with Dr. Tumblin.

He’s probably going ape-shit right about now.

I shook my head and thought back to the night when I mentioned to Alexander that he and I should go to therapy. I had no idea it would turn out to be this difficult. I thought it was a good idea. After the car crash, life seemed to come full circle and I didn’t want the nightmares of our pasts to interfere with us anymore. We had our whole lives ahead of us and I wanted nothing to hold us back. He was my everything. My dark knight. He was my heart and he set my soul on fire.

However, I was starting to wonder if my insistence to attend therapy was a good one. Alexander warned me. He said he wasn’t a fan of shrinks. That was the understatement of the year. I just wished he could see what I saw – a tormented man, haunted by the demons in his past. I witnessed his turmoil almost every night while he slept. I hated when he awoke from the nightmares that ripped him apart. It nearly broke me. I felt it was imperative for us to work through this.

Together.

Unfortunately, Alexander was having none of it. His value for privacy took precedence. I wasn’t allowed to mention certain parts of Alexander’s past, making it difficult to speak freely to Dr. Tumblin. The only thing he knew was that Alexander’s parents were dead. Nothing more.

I took a sip of the coffee and winced from the bitterness. It certainly was not anything like the coffee La Biga would’ve served, but at least it was caffeine.

Beggars can’t be choosers.

I sighed to myself and reclaimed my chair in the waiting room. Settling in, I went over our conversation during the car ride here. It was frustrating. I tried to keep my cool, but knew I had failed miserably. The minute he mentioned his sister’s involvement in our wedding plans, it became a real struggle to bite my tongue. His domineering nature was taking over all aspects of my life. Of our lives. Navigating his needs with my own was a difficult balancing act. I understood Alexander’s demand for control, but he was taking it to a whole new level. I just wanted to scream.

What about me? Don’t I get to plan my wedding? Don’t I get to have a say in the house that we are going to live in together?

I looked up when I heard the door to Dr. Tumblin’s office open. The psychiatrist smiled kindly at me.

“Are you ready, Krystina?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” I joked with a slight grin, even though I wasn’t really kidding.

When I walked into the office, I found Alexander pacing like a caged animal. Despite his obvious agitation, I couldn’t help but to take a quick moment to admire the way he could own any room with just his mere presence. Standing over six feet, he commanded power and radiated prestige. I would never tire of watching him. Even when he was angry, he was impossibly gorgeous.

His dark waves were wild, as if he had been running his hands through them in frustration. His rumpled hair only added to his Adonis-like appearance. His sapphire eyes flashed when he saw me come in, and his lips were drawn into a grim line. Nevertheless, his apparent anger didn’t stop the magnetic pull that I felt whenever I was near him. He was like the other half of my soul, and at times I felt like I couldn’t breathe without him.

I fought the urge to go to him, wanting nothing more than to melt into his arms and completely forget about the therapy session all together. However, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. I hesitated, not wanting to make the wrong move and potentially make a bad situation worse. Afraid to utter a word, I quietly sat down on the plush peach colored sofa in the office and ran my hands over my skirt in an attempt to keep them from fidgeting.

“Alex, why don’t you take a seat?” Dr. Tumblin suggested.

“I’d rather not,” Alexander responded curtly. He wasn’t even attempting to cooperate.

So much for trying to find a middle ground.

“As you wish,” Dr. Tumblin said and directed his attention to me. “Krystina, Alex and I revisited the concern you mentioned last week.”

“Krystina and I have already talked about this,” Alexander hissed through gritted teeth. “She knows where I stand on the matter. Having further discussion about it is pointless.”

Dr. Tumblin’s face remained impassive. Alexander’s jaw had an angry tick. I took that as a warning sign, as I knew it meant he was nearing his breaking point.

“Krystina is concerned about the increased frequency of your night terrors,” Dr. Tumblin said patiently, despite Alexander’s obvious agitation.

“My night terrors?” Alexander questioned mockingly, as if the term was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Is that what we’re calling them now?”

“Yes. What we haven’t discussed is the content of them. The content, as well as Krystina’s theory about why they might be occurring, holds merit and is worth exploring. She mentioned that you used to attend a BDSM club.”

Alexander’s eyes flashed angrily in my direction. I winced and looked away. I knew I was going to be in major trouble for divulging that little snippet of information.

“Your point?” Alexander snapped testily.

This isn’t going well at all.

I huffed out a breath from frustration. This convoluted idea of therapy was proving to be a failure, as almost all subjects were off limits. Alexander held too many secrets, making any sort progress near impossible.

“BDSM was a big part of your life. You have used it as an outlet,” Dr. Tumblin calmly pointed out before turning to me. “Krystina, let’s talk about your concerns a little more in depth. Shall we?”

“Well, it wasn’t a huge concern. I only brought it up because I thought there might be a connection. I don’t know,” I said with a shrug.

I’m not the doctor. How the hell should I know?

“Why do you feel like there is a connection?” he probed.

“Because Alex’s nightmares have been coming more and more frequently. Nearly every night,” I added, glancing nervously in Alexander’s direction. His nightmares were the touchiest subject of them all and I had to proceed with caution. “I only wondered if the frequency has anything to do with his decision to step back from the more extreme BDSM lifestyle that he was used to. I worry that, without the outlet he had for so many years, his demons are possibly manifesting in other ways.”

I shrugged and looked down at my hands. Despite my efforts, they were fidgeting in my lap. I clamped my palms together to still them and focused my attention on the subtle circular patterns in the office carpet. I knew I shouldn’t have been nervous about the conversation taking place. After all, this was one of the reasons we were here.

“Alexander, what are your feelings about that?” Dr. Tumblin asked.

“I feel like I’ve already explained my position on this over a hundred times. But, since we are being so open all of a sudden, I will tell you what I told her. Yes, I turned to BDSM at a young age. It was an outlet for a time. I’ve done things, a lot of things, that many would call freakish. Hell, I was a member of a sex club for Christ’s sake! Fucked up, right, Doc? But it doesn’t define who I am. I’ve told Krystina this before. I haven’t…we haven’t,” Alexander corrected, motioning his hand back and forth between us. “We haven’t given up BDSM. We are anything but vanilla, not that what I do with my fiancée is any of your business. I just dropped the club scene. It’s not an outlet for me anymore because I don’t need it to be, and it certainly isn’t the sort of place I want Krystina to go to.”

“But Alex, if it’s something you need –” I stopped when he swore again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Krystina! Is this really about what I need? Or you? The problem is, you have no goddamn clue about that world. What you saw at the club doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what really goes on. Do you want to be a collared Submissive? Caged? Do you want to be dragged around in black leather with the other Submissives, on your knees and sucking off your Master? Bowing to his every whim, even if that includes sharing you with another man or woman?” He paused and narrowed his gaze on me. His sapphire eyes burned dark, almost navy in color. “Yeah, that’s right. If I wanted to, I could share you and you wouldn’t be allowed to question it. I’d own you. So tell me. Do you want me to break you, Krystina? Is that what you want?”

He spat out the harsh questions like he was demanding my answers, although he already knew what I would say. I winced from his words and my cheeks flushed pink. He was speaking as if Dr. Tumblin wasn’t even in the room. A shiver ran down my spine, and I shook my head.

“No,” I told him quietly. “I don’t want that. I didn’t think you did either. You told me that you weren’t an extremist.”

“And I’m not. That’s why I was able to adjust to being with you so easily. I chose you. I knew I didn’t want another random whore who spreads her legs for any man willing to dominate her.”

My stomach rolled from the thought of him being with someone else. And not just a random whore, but any woman at all.

“Alex…” I trailed off, unable to find the words I needed to explain my rationale.

“Listen to me, Krystina. I was done with that life the moment I met you. Bringing you to that club, even if it was only once, was a mistake. I only want what you can give me. Nothing more. I no longer need that life to be an outlet for me. And, quite frankly, I’m not seeing how any of this connects to my nightmares.”

“I’m not saying that it is connected,” I interjected. “It really was just a passing thought last week. I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have!” Alexander snapped.

“Please, Alex. Calm down. Lashing out at Krystina isn’t the answer,” Dr. Tumblin placated. “Perhaps we are discussing the wrong thing here. Tell me, why BDSM? What was it an outlet for?”

“Why don’t you ask Krystina? Apparently, she’s been a wealth of information lately,” Alexander spit out. His fury caused me to blanch again.

“Look, I’m sorry for divulging your damn secrets, okay? I just can’t figure you out lately,” I said, and my voice cracked. I could feel the sting of tears from frustration in the backs of my eyes, but I refused to let them shed. “It’s not only your dreams. It’s everything – from the wedding, to the house, and even my wardrobe! It’s like your need for control has intensified, and it feels like I’m navigating a minefield half the time. Maybe I’m way off the mark, but I’m just trying to make sense of it all. That’s how I came up with the theory about you and the change in your BDSM lifestyle.”

“The mind works in mysterious ways, Alex. You know this,” Dr. Tumblin said softly.

Alexander abruptly stopped his rapid pacing and whipped his head around to stare at Dr. Tumblin. I stilled when I saw the set in his jaw. The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Ice was near forming. By comparison to how heated he appeared just a moment before, Alexander suddenly looked arctic. When he finally spoke, his voice was eerily calm.

“Yes, it does. And right now, my mind is telling me that our time here is up.”

“Alex, we still have another thirty minutes,” I pointed out, shocked that he wanted to leave so soon.

He turned to look at me.

“No. It’s time to go.”

In the blink of an eye, the calm façade was gone, replaced by genuine anger as he hastily slipped into his navy suit coat. We were clearly done with our appointment. Alexander was, as usual, calling all the shots. Feeling awkward and embarrassed by Alexander’s outburst, I stood up and began to put on my jacket.

“Perhaps we’ve accomplished enough here today,” Dr. Tumblin said as he came around the desk he had been sitting behind. He had a worried expression on his face. “Krystina, please call if you need anything. In the meantime, Patricia will schedule the next appointment for you on your way out.”

“Krystina will not be calling you and there isn’t going to be another appointment,” Alexander announced with an air of finality.

“Wait. What?” I asked incredulously.

“You heard me. I’m done.”