Chapter 20
Will
The email hits my inbox just as I’m getting back from a run. I’m still soaked with sweat when I pull it up on my phone, certain it’s going to be an update from Hailey on her sister and what I can do to help. Maybe she needs me to make a grocery stop or a wine run—Hailey rarely drinks, but I know Bree enjoys a glass of wine now and then, and surely the poor kid could use something to take the edge off after the night she had.
I’m thinking about what else I should bring over to Hailey’s—some cookies from the macaroon place on my corner, my old gaming system in case they want to zone out with an alien-killing RPG, or Monopoly for old-fashioned board-game therapy—when I read the first line of the email and realize this isn’t what I thought it was.
Record scratching in my head, I go back, reading the first line again, my stomach hardening into a rancid ball as I realize what’s happening, what she’s doing, how fast all our dreams are burning to the ground.
To: Saunders_Will
From: HaileyRaeRawr
Subject: What we need…
Dear Will,
I’m going to start with “I’m sorry” even though I know it’s not enough.
But I am sorry. So sorry.
I thought I could be what you wanted me to be, but I can’t.
No matter how much a part of me wants to be the girl kneeling by the door when you get home, that’s not who I am.
Or maybe it is.
I don’t know…
I’m not sure exactly who I am or what I want anymore, everything’s so mixed up in my head, but I do know one thing for sure—I need to fight on the side that protects the innocent and defends the defenseless and helps create a world where men like the monster who hurt Bree understand that women aren’t objects or toys or trash. Before I die, I want the world to be a better place than it is now, and that’s not going to happen if I spend the rest of my life giving away my power.
Yes, I’ve loved every second of the games we played. And yes, I understand that consensual power exchange isn’t the same thing as what happened to Bree, but it’s too close for comfort, Will.
I was holding Bree’s hand today, and we had matching bruises. And how can I promise to protect her when I look like a victim myself?
I can’t. And I won’t. I won’t do that to her or to the other people I love.
But I will always love you and treasure you and wish you all the best of everything. You deserve it.
Please don’t write back, at least not for a while. I’m weak right now and need time to get strong again.
So sorry,
Hailey
Cursing, it’s all I can do not to throw my phone at the brick wall of my building.
But if I throw my phone, I won’t be able to text Hailey, and I’m going to text her. I’ll respect her need for physical space, but there’s no way I can let this stand without responding.
She’s got it all wrong. What we do in the bedroom has nothing to do with rape culture or the shitty way women are treated by men who have fucked up notions about what Dominance really means.
Dominance means responsibility and respect, not imposing your will on someone else without their consent. Every game Hailey and I have played, every line we’ve crossed, every boundary we’ve blurred, has been agreed upon in advance. She’s given her consent and can withdraw that consent at any time with her safe word. I may be the one tying her to the bed, but she’s the one who’s ultimately in control.
That’s the opposite of what happened to Bree, and we’re both part of the good fight.
I have to make her see that.
I have to show her that she doesn’t have to run or push me away. We don’t have to suffer through another year apart, another day apart. We can have our happy ever after and our kinky ever after and still hold our heads high at the annual fundraising banquet for the women’s shelter next door to our gym.
I compose my text swiftly, but carefully, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk outside my building, too keyed up to be penned in by four walls.
I explain my thoughts, make my most compelling arguments, and end with an appeal straight from the heart—I love you, Hailey. More than any lifestyle choice or game or anything else. I think we’ve both enjoyed our lessons, and I don’t see any reason we should have to stop doing something we enjoy, but if it means that much to you, I can be done with it all. Right now. This very fucking second. There is nothing in my life that means as much to me as you do. Your heart is the most precious thing I’ve ever been entrusted with, baby. If you’ll just keep trusting me, I swear I won’t let you down. Just keep the lines of communication open, and we’ll get through this. Together. All my love, your sexy boyfriend.
I wait for ten minutes. Twenty.
At the half-hour mark, I force myself to head upstairs to my condo and take a shower. I bring my phone with me into the bathroom so I can listen for the ding of an incoming text, but my cell remains silent—silent for the rest of the afternoon, silent for the entire next day, silent as I wake on Saturday morning to dark gray skies and the sound of thunder.
Over coffee, I transcribe the text into an email and send it to her that way—pathetically hoping her lack of response is due to some glitch that resulted in my text not being delivered—but within an hour I receive a reply.
To: Saunders_Will
From: HaileyRaeRawr
Subject: I can’t
I’m sorry, Will, but I can’t do this. I need to stay focused on helping Bree get back on her feet. I can’t debate or negotiate with you right now. I’m too confused, and I don’t trust myself the way I did before. Our lessons turned my world upside down, and if that isn’t proof that I made a mistake, I don’t know what is.
I guess I’m not as strong as either of us thought I was.
Good luck at the game tonight, and be careful on your way to the arena. This storm is supposed to get worse before it gets better.
Hailey
“Get worse before it gets better,” I murmur aloud as I shut my laptop, forcing myself to give Hailey the space she needs.
I want to write back immediately and tell her that she is strong, that confusion is a natural part of growth and change, and that I have no doubt she’s going to come through to the other side of this and realize there’s nothing wrong with the way we love each other, even when that love is expressed with handcuffs and a spanking.
But that would be a lie…at least the last part.
I’m not sure she’s going to come through to the other side or that she’s going to come back to me or that I will ever get to hold her the way I did that last night in Vancouver. The only thing I’m sure of is that everything is going to get worse before it gets better.
Or maybe just get worse. Period.
Leaving my laptop closed and quiet, I stand and start my day, a day without Hailey in it. A day that will be darker than those that came before, no matter what happens with this damned storm.