Out of the Ashes (The Game 5)

I nodded right away. It was a good start.

“At the same time,” he went on between bites, “it’s important we don’t let our insecurities dictate the boundaries. Fear is a bad reason to draw a line. So while I believe we have to close ourselves in a bit to find stability and security again, we have to make sure our needs are taken into consideration.”

“I understand, Master.” I didn’t like hearing it, but he was right. “Let the record reflect that I wanna hide under the bed with you, though.”

He chuckled softly and scratched my scalp, sending a shiver down my spine. “That’s the uncertainty talking, Tate. We don’t hide our love, no matter how fractured it is. We put it under a spotlight and mend every break we can find.”

I sighed and sent him a reluctant little smirk. “Maybe you’re right again.”

He smiled faintly and touched my cheek. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to do anything outside of our comfort zone for the foreseeable future. We lost sight of what was important and replaced it with excessive playtime. When in reality, we’re not that easy to get close to.”

Surprise, surprise, he was right yet again. In fact, he was dead-on. What he said truly resonated, and it kick-started my brain. I thought back on our years together and wondered how this had blown up so much. Because for as big as this problem had become, one might think we’d screwed around all the time. We really didn’t. But our—or at least my—insecurities forced me to think about it constantly. I could still replay memories from years ago that’d caused jealousy to flare up, and it’d feel like it happened yesterday.

What was even worse, I could replay memories that were fucking fictional. Mind games I’d played with myself when I’d worried that he was out with someone else.

I’d been on a fast track toward self-destruction.

I took a breath and tossed the crust onto the tray, and I shared my thoughts with him. I told him I needed a complete reboot, to use his word, to break my destructive patterns. We’d done an open relationship all wrong. I’d painted him as the villain just because I was afraid he’d do something.

Oh my God, I’d ruined us.

Anxiousness formed a fist around my heart, and more words tumbled out of me without control.

“I thought you wanted this, that the open arrangement was your preference,” I said tightly. “I’ve let my fears play tricks on my mind, and I’ve believed them. Even when I distinctly remember you saying us being open was the option since I’m a switch. You didn’t say you didn’t wanna be exclusive. You never once told me you wanted to be open.”

I swallowed hard and was overcome by a restlessness that made me reel back. I withdrew from the comfort between his legs and rose to my feet. “I got angry with you when you transferred half our savings to me—legit angry, and I manufactured a tone that hadn’t existed. I decided for myself why you’d done that, and Franklin rightly called me crazy. No, he didn’t—he’s too kind for that, but in his own words. He questioned me. He asked how I could know that you’d transferred the money out of spite.” It didn’t go unnoticed that Lee winced at the mention of Franklin, and that was a whole other shitshow. We’d get there eventually. “How long have I been doing that for? You know? Because obviously, it hasn’t just been a bitter breakup behavior.”

“Tate, you—”

“No. Don’t you see? This is all my fault.” Oh fuck. My breathing became strained, and my heart started pounding. “I accused you of needing me to be the bad guy, but it was the other way around. To validate my own insecurities, I made you the villain.”

A harsh wind swept through the balcony, and I stiffened and walked back inside, so sick of myself and what I’d done. How he could even look at me was beyond me. He’d just sat there and listened while I word-vomited.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and scrubbed my hands over my face.

Jesus Christ, just a couple months ago, I’d told Shay that one of the biggest reasons Lee and I broke up was because he wanted to be open and I didn’t. What a nice victim I’d turned myself into.

Lee’s words came back to me. “When in reality, we’re not that easy to get close to.”

He was so right. We’d attended hundreds of kink events together, we’d hosted countless demos as a couple, we’d been hit on and flirted with by new and seasoned kinksters throughout our relationship, and…yeah, we were rarely interested. The playing with others had been an occasional spice, mostly when I felt the need to let out my Dom.

Our desire for each other, and only each other, had burned so brightly that we could be surrounded by a million people and still act like we were the last souls in the universe.