Desired and Dominated (35 page)

“Is she okay?”

“Physically, yes. They got to her in time. She’ll need to go to rehab, which she’s reluctant to do, but she needs it. I’m going to make a few calls tomorrow and arrange a place at a facility in New York for her, so that we can take her home and support her through this.”

“Is that really necessary? Rehab?”

“Yes. It is. She’s an addict. I know you don’t want to hear that, neither did I, but she needs us to help her face it head on, not enable her to bury her head in the sand. If we don’t help her now, we might not be so lucky next time. If housekeeping had gone in an hour later, she…I can’t even say it. She needs to go to rehab, now, and we need to present a united front; show her that we’re here for her in any way she needs.”

He grabs a drink from the minibar, downing it in one, before reaching for another. “I’m fucking terrified for her, man. How did it come to this? Why the fuck didn’t you know what was going on with her? She’s your fucking girlfriend.”

“I’m going to let that slide, because you’re in shock and you need to lash out at someone. You’re her brother. She didn’t come to either of us. She was really good at hiding it, and neither of us saw it coming. Believe me when I tell you, you couldn’t hate me any more than I hate myself right now. You’re right, I should have known something was wrong. Don’t you think I’m asking myself that same question? How did I not see it? How could she have fooled me like that, why would she go to such great lengths to lie to me? I didn’t even know what fucking country my girlfriend was in. What kind of a waste of space asshole does that make me?”

“I’m sorry, Nate. I’m so fucking confused. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Sofia’s always been good at hiding her true feelings. Fake it until you make it has always been her mantra. I know this must be tearing you up. You don’t need me adding to it. I just feel so helpless, like I’ve let her down. I’m her big brother, I’m supposed to protect her from the bad things in life, and I can’t even protect her from herself. It’s fucked up, and I don’t know how to handle it. I’m so fucking angry at her, and at the same time, I just want to hug her and tell her how much I love her.”

“I understand completely. I feel guilty for how angry I am about what she did, but I can’t tell her, and it feels like a poison in my system, infecting everything it touches, rotting my fucking soul. How can I be angry at her when she’s so vulnerable, and so obviously needs my unconditional love?”

“I guess we just suck it the fuck up, and be there for her. And, one day, the anger will subside. We focus on how fucking happy we are that she’s alive, and that we have a second chance to help her.” He stands and walks over to where I’m standing. “I know it took me a while to get on board with you guys dating, but I’m really fucking glad she has you. You’re a good guy; you’re my fucking brother. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have around to help her get through this and find happiness again.”

“Thanks, Si. That means a lot.”

We sit in silence, staring out at the unfamiliar city; hauntingly beautiful, and yet so tragic. I don’t think either of us will be getting a good night’s sleep, but at 1am, I head back to my own room, agreeing to take him to the hospital first thing to see Sofia.

I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how the hell I’m going to do this. How I’m going to support her through rehab. How I’m going to piece together the broken shards of our shattered relationship. How we’re ever going to move on from this.

Will I
ever
trust her again?

Will there come a time when I trust
myself
, and the decisions I make as a Master?

Can I even call myself a Master, and can she ever
really
be my submissive?

One Month Later

Every night since I answered the call from Kelen Hospital, I’ve been plagued in the few hours that I actually find sleep, by the same dream; a nightmare that could very well have been my reality. I decide to surprise Sofia with a visit, and when I get there, I’m the one that finds her in her hotel room. But…I’m too late. She’s gone. Her body cold and lifeless as I cradle her in my arms, screaming my despair to a higher power I don’t believe in, and that’s when I wake up sweating, my heart pounding.

In the waking hours, things are slowly getting better, moving in the right direction, little by little.

We left Budapest three days after I arrived: Sofia, Simon, and I, together. He was amazing with her when I took him to the hospital, but that’s not a surprise to me. They’ve always been close, and he would do anything for her. It was tough to watch her break down in his arms, to sit idly by and let him comfort her in a way that I’m not capable of right now. She doesn’t have the same faith and trust in me, that she has in her brother. I guess she still sees me as a fleeting presence in her life, rather than a fixture; I’m not family to her, and therein lies the difference. She
is
my family. She is the only person in my life that I couldn’t do without. Until she feels that way about me, she won’t be able to lean on me the way she needs to.

As soon as we touched down in New York, I took her to her apartment to pick up some clothes, and then I drove her to a rehab facility in the Hamptons. She begged me not to take her, and when we got there, she begged me not to leave her. It was excruciating, but it was a necessary evil. I didn’t want to let her out of my sight, even if it was to help her get better, in a place where I knew she’d be safe.

Simon let me stay at his beach house for the duration of her thirty days in rehab, which allowed me to visit her every day. He and Jess came up on weekends with Verona, which was a great distraction for me, and I know it meant a lot to Sofia. She wasn’t ready to face her parents at first, but towards the end of her stay, she invited them to visit, and in the end, it was cathartic for everyone. They gave her all the unconditional love and understanding that I knew they would. It was hard to see Mrs. Mantovani after her visit with Sof. She cried for close to an hour, from the moment she stepped out of the glass doors, and the whole car ride back to the beach house, before falling into Simon’s open arms on the porch. Maria Mantovani has been like a mother to me for almost a decade, and more of a mother than mine has ever been. It was heart-breaking to see her so upset, and any words of comfort I could offer, seemed so hollow in the face of what she was coming to terms with.

For me, it’s been a rollercoaster of emotions over the past month. Two steps forward and one step back. Sofia, being her usual stubborn self, has fought against any attempt on my behalf to act in her best interests. She shuts down whenever I broach the subject of why she kept what was happening from me. I understand better than most what losing the thing you’re most passionate about can do to you. I know that feeling of being completely lost in your own life, when you can’t do the one thing that gave you joy, that gave you an escape; the one thing in life that defined you.

I haven’t told her what happened to me. She needs to focus on herself, and work through her own grief. I hope at some point, that my experiences will give her comfort, and will help us to connect with each other again, but right now, all I’m doing, is hanging on for dear life, refusing to give up on her, on us.

She’s coming home today, and that’s when the real hard work starts. It’s easier to stay clean when you’re in rehab, with round the clock support and understanding. The pressures of real life are left at the door when you sign in, but unfortunately, when you leave, you have to pick them back up, and start dealing with them. She has agreed to come and stay at my apartment, at least for now. She’s not ready to be alone, and I want her with me. I’m hoping that it will become a permanent arrangement, but that’s something to discuss at a later date.

As I lock up the beach house and load up the car, I feel the same feeling in the pit of my stomach that I felt the day I got the call from Budapest. I try to shrug it off, but the last time I did that, it ended…catastrophically.

“I’ve put your bags in the guest room. Make yourself at home, and I’ll get to work on dinner. Anything you’re in the mood to eat?” She looks confused, as if I’m speaking a foreign language. “Is everything okay? If you’re not hungry just now, I’ll hold off on dinner ‘till later. It’s no big deal.”

“The guest room? I thought I’d be sharing your room; your bed.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. At least, not yet. You’re not ready.”

“You mean you don’t want me anymore.” Her gaze drops to the floor. “I don’t blame you. You didn’t sign up for a suicidal, junkie submissive.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, and don’t ever fucking talk about yourself like that again, do you understand me?”

“Why? It’s what everyone’s thinking.”

I close the distance between us, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Look at me.” Her eyes meet mine, filled with tears. “No one thinks that. Everyone is worried about you. We all love you, and we want to be here for you, if you’ll let us.”

“I don’t want your pity, Nate.” She’s angry; on edge. The pressure of leaving rehab is getting to her, and she’s lashing out at me, but I’ll take whatever she throws at me. I’m in this for the long haul. “If you’re going to look at me like that, then I may as well leave.”

“Look at you like what? Like I give a shit about you? Like I
love
you? Like you scared the ever-living shit out of me when I was half the world away and couldn’t get to you, and now I’m worried about you?”

She shoves against my chest, trying to push me away. “Like I’m so fragile I might break at any moment.”

“Give me a break. You tried to kill yourself a month ago. ONE MONTH AGO. You barely talk to me, and when you do open up in any way, the next day you treat me like shit. I can’t turn off my feelings and pretend like I don’t care. If I could switch off all of the emotions I’ve been feeling lately, I would in a heartbeat, believe me. They’re fucking crushing me! But, I can’t, so I apologize if me looking at you with concern and unconditional love, bothers you, but you’ll just have to suck it up and get used to it, because I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies. I want you to stop treating me like I’m the enemy. I’m your biggest ally. We’re supposed to be a team.”

She runs into my arms, her small frame trembling. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be horrible, especially not to you. I love you. Tell me you know that.”

I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight, afraid to let go. “I know…I know.” As I stand here, clinging to the girl I love more than anything, I’m filled with dread for the days and weeks ahead. It’s not going to be easy for her to put her life back together, or for us to get back to where we were what seems like a lifetime ago. Maybe we won’t ever be the same again, maybe all we can do is stumble forward, putting one foot in front of the other, and hope that we can make a future together. What it will look like, I don’t know, but what I
do
know, is that I want her to be in it. “Why don’t you go and have a lie down. I’ll come get you when dinner is ready.”

Her body slumps against mine, in defeat. “That actually sounds pretty good. I’m a little tired.” She gives me a hesitant, soft kiss on the lips before heading for the guest room. I hate watching her go anywhere other than my bed, but it’s too soon. If she’s in my bed, then I’ll make love to her, because I won’t be able to stop myself; and if we make love, we’ll ignore all of the issues that we need to deal with, content to lose ourselves in each other for hours at a time, giving us a closeness and a connection that we obviously lack in the rest of our relationship at the moment.