Secrets & Submission

“I had a drink and I shouldn’t have,” I answer mildly, picking at the throw.

“It’s me, Ella. You can talk to me.”

“What if I don’t want to talk?” I’m surprised by how blunt my answer is. He’s only trying to help and I’m more than aware of that. A part of me desperately wishes to tell him everything. But I don’t understand it. I don’t know why I can’t turn it off.

“You don’t have to talk to me, but you may want to when I’m not here and I’m here now. I’m worried, Ella,” Damon tells me and that anxiousness shines through. His teacup sits unattended on the table. It’s his tone that gave it away.

“I’m worried too,” I answer him and my throat goes tight. This time it’s me reaching for my cup and finding it empty.

“Grief is a ball in a box … is love like that too?”

“What do you mean?” he asks and his head tilts. For such a strong and dominating man, Damon has a tenderness about him. A thoughtful caring that coaxes out the conversation I want to keep buried inside. The one I’m not ready to have.

“I remember how much I love him, or loved,” I answer softly and then swallow thickly.

He’s gentle, but quick to answer, “You never stop loving someone. You can use it in present tense.”

Tears prick my eyes and I dab the corners of them as if they don’t fall recklessly at the memory of James.

I will always love him, but I love Zander … And dare I say I love him more?

Sniffling, I ignore the fact that the trickle of tears turns to sobs. My hand shakes too hard to gently dab so I bring my chin to my knees and press the throw blanket to my eyes instead.

“I’m not okay,” I admit to Damon.

“You may think you aren’t, but I’m looking at you and I know this is okay. I know you are going to get through this. Are you thinking things that aren’t okay? Ella, are you thinking about hurting yourself?”

Shaking my head I say, “I just miss him.” At the admission, surprise courses through me enough that the tears stop. I’m not thinking of that at all. When everything first happened, I was plagued with thoughts of driving down the highway and plummeting off a bridge. Or taking a long hot bath and drawing a knife down my wrists. Those ideas are what got me sent away to the Rockford Center, because I truly thought of suicide almost every waking hour. Just ending it.

“I don’t want to kill myself,” I tell Damon.

“Did you last night?”

“No.” My answer is easy and spoken only in a breath. “I was shocked and worried because I felt the loss all over again, but I didn’t want that.”

“When’s the last time you’ve had those thoughts?” he asks.

“Since before … since I was in Rockford.”

“I just want to be very clear and make sure I understand. Are you thinking anything that would be alarming? This is a safe place, Ella. We won’t make you go back or do anything outside of your comfort zone. Know that before answering this question. Are you thinking about hurting yourself at all or in any way?”

“No. But I’m thinking I wish I was with him.”

And that makes me feel like I’m cheating on Zander. Like I’m a truly horrible person. He deserves so much more and so much better than a woman who misses her first love. Who will always miss him.

“He shouldn’t want me.” Not when I’m so thoroughly broken by what happened with James. “Zander shouldn’t want me.” James said he would ruin me and I swear he did. I love him. I do, but I love Zander more. Even if it makes me an awful person.

“I don’t understand it and I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Scared that I’m undeserving.”

I love what he does to me, though. The control and the heat that burns between us. Last night comes back in full force and I swear I can feel his warm breath in the crook of my neck. My eyes become heavy and desire along with something else floods into my blood. He feels that too. I’m able to give him that at the very least and I’m certain he enjoys it.

“He knows what he wants and he wants you as you are.”

I stare back at Damon. “Has he told you that?”

He answers my question with one of his own. “Hasn’t he told you that?”

“Has he told me …” It takes a moment to put the pieces together. “Has Z told me he wants me?”

Damon nods and waits for me to answer.

“He has,” I say and the admission is a whisper. “He makes it very clear what he wants.” My heart thumps hard in my chest, painfully so. I’ve told him I love him and he hasn’t said it back.

Maybe that’s a good thing. My gaze drops and I grab a tissue, blowing my nose and getting over the sorrow I feel for myself when I’m the one causing so much pain for everyone else.