I've quit my job, given notice on my apartment. I'm relocating back home, but that doesn't fill me with any feelings of security. Instead, I'm swaying like a ship in a choppy sea, taking hold of the edge of my dresser to try and gain some equilibrium.
"I know I told you that I'm going to help you, but I really don't want to," Dawn grumbles.
"You told me you wouldn't tell me that I'm doing the wrong thing again," I say, reaching for the first pile of clothes to stack in the first box.
"Well, sometimes I say things that I don't mean," she says, scowling.
"That's not fair," I protest. "I have enough doubts on my own without you adding to them."
"Haven't I told you before that you need to listen to your gut? Your gut knows that you're making a mistake. It's trying to tell you."
"My gut is constantly telling me that I'm making a mistake about almost everything I do. Seriously, I constantly feel as though I'm going to be sick."
Dawn's hand rests on my shoulder, a calming weight that triggers me to release a long exhale of tense breath. "I don't want to make things harder, Kyla," she says softly. "I never want that. I don't know what to do to help you. Telling you that you're making a mistake is hurting you. Letting you make that mistake will hurt you. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place."
"Don't you think I know that?" I say. "I know that because it's how I feel. I've had to weigh up two lots of hurt, two possible paths, and take the one that less terrible."
"Sometimes we have to travel the difficult path to get to the beautiful open meadow," Dawn says, her eyes taking on a soft and spiritual quality. "Sometimes, the slightly less difficult path is longer and leads to a place that is dull and lonely. I know it's hard to face the pain head-on. I know it's hard to feel out of control, but it's the difficult times we face in life…the hurt that we experience…that makes happiness and joy taste sweet. Those gorgeous men from Ink Factor won't want you to leave like this."
"You don't know that," I say. "They're probably grateful that I won't be hanging around while they're trying to find other women to have fun with. Maybe I’m not the first woman they’ve played the game with. Maybe I’m just one in a long line of administrators who have played their kinky game. How awkward would it be to watch that happening in front of me?"
"They thought you were in danger, and they came running to rescue you. Does that sound like men who don't care? Does that sound like men who'd want you to leave? Or men who are looking to replace you?"
I flop to the edge of the bed, holding my face in my hands. "I can't face them again, Dawn. Not after everything that has happened. I can't deal with their pitying stares and their embarrassed expressions. I can't deal with seeing them with other women, knowing what it felt like to be the center of their worlds for just a few weeks."
"So, tell them that. Tell them how you feel."
"Tell eight men that I've fallen in love with them? How pathetic will I sound? How unhinged? Who falls in love with eight men at the same time? They'll never believe me. They'll think I'm a pathetic woman who can't tell the difference between lust and love. Who wants to cling onto men she's had sex with because of some pathetic sense of emotional connection?"
"Or maybe they'll understand. Maybe they'll feel the same."
"All of them?"
Dawn sinks to the bed, throwing her arm around my shoulder. "I don't know, hon. I wish I did. Maybe all of them. Maybe some of them. Maybe one of them. If it was one of them, would you want to stay?"
"And spend the rest of my life looking at the rest of them falling in love with other people?" I shake my head, the hopelessness only growing in my chest. "I couldn’t do that. I'd spend my life craving what I couldn’t have. It wouldn't be fair to any of them."
"So, it's all or nothing," Dawn says.
"All is ridiculous. Nothing is hopeless," I say, repeating the argument that I've been having in my own head and heart since the start of the game.
"Luna doesn't think so," Dawn reminds me. "She's ecstatic with her arrangement."
"Luna's a superstar. Her men surround her like seven stars around a moon."
"You're a superstar, too," Dawn says. "I just wish you could see what a great person you are. I want you to believe in yourself."
"Believe that I'd be enough woman for eight amazing, sexy, gorgeous, kind, funny men? Who has that much confidence?"