my harsh words.
“Well, I wouldn’t ha一ve put it quite like that, but yes,”
he says, his eyes wide and hurt.
His expression is sobering and I regret my outburst. I
frown, feeling a pang of guilt.
Oh, what am I going to do? I gaze at him and he looks
contrite, sincere . . . he looks like my Fifty.
And unbidden I recall the photograph in his childhood
bedroom, and in that moment realize why the woman in it
looked so familiar. She looked like him. She must ha一ve
been his biological mother.
His easy dismissal of her comes to mind: No one of
consequence . . . She’s responsible for all this . . . and I
look like her . . . Fuck!
He stares at me, eyes raw, and I know he’s waiting for
He stares at me, eyes raw, and I know he’s waiting for
my next move. He seems genuine. He’s said he loves me,
but I’m really confused.
This is all so fucked-up. He’s reassured me about
Leila, but now I know with more certainty than ever how
she was able to give him his kicks. The thought is wearying
and unpalatable. I am so tired of all this.
“Christian, I’m exhausted. Can we discuss this
tomorrow? I want to go to bed.”
He blinks at me in surprise. “You’re not going?”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No! I thought you would lea一ve once you knew.”
All the times he’s alluded to me lea一ving once I knew
his darkest secrets flash through my mind . . . and now I
know. Shit. Master is dark.
Should I lea一ve? I gaze at him, this crazy man that I
love, yes love.
Can I lea一ve him? I left him once before, and it nearly
broke me . . . and him. I love him. I know that in spite of
this revelation.
“Don’t lea一ve me,” he whispers.
“Oh, for crying out loud—no! I am not doing to go!” I
shout and it’s cathartic. There, I’ve said it. I am not
lea一ving.
“Really?” His eyes widen.
“What can I do to make you understand I will not run?
What can I say?”
He gazes at me, revealing his fear and anguish again.
He swallows. “There is one thing you can do.”
“What?” I snap.
“Marry me,” he whispers.
What? Did he really just—
For the secon
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