50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

50SOD II: Chapter Twenty-One

    When Destiny broke the news to Carlos that he would be on his own for most of the day, he wasn't the least bit heartbroken. He declared he was going to take his ass back to bed, if that was the case.

    As she closed the door behind him, her mind had already turned to Aubrey. What memories relating to his ex-fiance could be so traumatizing that they caused him to black out? And the way he'd pleaded for her to stay...Tears came to her eyes just thinking about it. There had been agony in his expression. Agony and fear. She couldn't fathom what it was he had to fear. After all, she was still here. If she had spent the day with Carlos, Aubrey knew that she would return that evening, since they'd agreed that she would sleep in his condo each night.

    So why did he act like I was leaving for good? And why did he get so desperate to keep me here? What is going on with him? And why can't he just talk about it with me? She growled in frustration, then looked towards the master bedroom where he rested. Hopefully he hadn't heard that groan. He probably did. For such a large place, the sound sure carries.

    She entered the kitchen, figuring that she might as well continue making breakfast. This time she would make breakfast for two. Food items were still scattered on the counter. She hadn't thought to tidy up after Aubrey had blacked out.

    The moment he hit the kitchen floor, she had jumped to action. Her first impulse had been to call an ambulance right away, but she'd tried reviving him on her own first. Since he remained unresponsive, she put in a 9-1-1 call.

    The waiting had been torture. Sitting with his head cradled in her lap, not knowing whether or not he was going to be okay for somewhere between twenty and thirty minutes had been hell. His eyes had been closed, as if he was peacefully sleeping. After those first few minutes though, his eyes started to rapidly dance behind his eyelids and he'd started jerking in his unconscious state.

    The paramedics seemed to take forever to arrive. In that time, she had to consider the fact that something could be seriously wrong with Aubrey. When the possibility of true tragedy presents itself, it's an eye-opener. It made her think about what was important to her. Getting to know him as well as she could was important to her. Him knowing that he could talk to her without worrying about judgment from her was important to her. She didn't want to trivialize just how important those two elements were. If she wanted something real with him, he had to feel comfortable talking to her about the demons that plagued him.

    Men aren't often big talkers when it comes to feelings, and I get that, she thought as she cooked. But when it's something as big as his ex-fiance cheating on him...or how his parents' break-up affected him, he has to be able to talk to me.

    But as she waited for the ambulance, all she could think to herself was that she wanted him to be okay. All she could think was that they would find a way to work towards opening up more to each other. She mentally kicked herself in the ass for being so hard on him. Just like Carlos pointed out, Aubrey wasn't used to being in real relationships these days. For the past several years, he'd masterfully kept his dating life casual. Keeping things casual meant that he hadn't had to open up to anyone.

    And I have to remember that. I have to remind myself that it might not be easy for him to open himself back up to someone, especially after what his ex-fiance did to him. From those letters, I could tell he was really hurt. He's taking his time with opening up to me, but once he gives himself to someone, he really gives himself to them. To have someone take advantage of you when you've given them your whole heart... She lowered her eyes while stirring the scrambled eggs in the pan. That had to be devastating for him.

    At the same time, she didn't want to give him too much room or too much time. She wanted to encourage him to open up to her instead of allowing him to be content with staying closed off to her emotionally. That was why she still intended to only serve him Friday through Sunday, as stipulated by the contract they'd both signed.

    She heard his pained voice all over again, heard him begging her to stay. Drawing an arm across her mouth, she closed her eyes while the eggs sizzled in the pan. What could a woman have done to a man to make him so emotionally fragile? And more importantly, was he ever going to tell her?

~~~~~~

    Her intention was to cater to him all day. Not because she was his submissive, even though she kept the collar on. Because he was not well, and she wanted to help him feel better. Out of love for him, not an obligation of servitude.

    They ate breakfast together in bed. She sat Indian-style, balancing a tray on her lap. Two plates were on top of the tray. She'd moved their drinks to the nightstand on either side of the bed, since she didn't feel confident she could keep those balanced on the tray for long without spilling the orange juice in both glasses.

    He was quiet at first.

    She wondered if he regretted begging her to stay, wondered if he felt like a weakling for doing so. He seemed to have issues with being pitied or being seen as weak. She hadn't viewed his outburst as weak at all. Quite the opposite - she'd felt a surge of pride that he'd been willing to communicate to her that he needed her here. He had communicated his feelings, and that was progress as far as she was concerned. She wished she could express that to him, but felt like he would take it the wrong way if she did.

    So those first ten minutes, they ate in silence. Then he told her, "Thank you. For staying."

    She lowered her fork and looked over at him.

    "I know you didn't have to. Not contractually." He was staring down at his pancakes.

    Those words, spoken so softly...so cordially...truly let her know just how far removed he was from real romantic relationships. He was thanking her as if she'd done him a favor. "You still don't get it," she said with a shake of her head. "Of course I'm going to stay if you tell me you need me. You don't have to thank me for that. We're...we're together, aren't we?" All of a sudden, she wasn't even sure. Maybe that night on the rooftop of Graham Enterprises had been a figment of her own imagination.

    "Yes...we are," he replied, still staring down at his plate.

    Relief washed over her. "Then here, with you, is where I'm supposed to be," she told him. "And whenever you go through something, I go through it too. Because that's what couples do. They fight alongside each other."

    He finally looked up at her, and his eyes were sad. "I don't remember what that feels like."

    Her eyes teared up immediately. She swallowed the lump in her throat and moved the tray off of her lap and beside her legs on the bed. Then, she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'll show you," she vowed, her eyes locking with his. "I'll show you, if you let me."

    He studied her for a long moment before nodding.

    She lowered her forehead on his shoulder, feeling both sad for him and angry at the nameless, faceless woman who'd shattered his heart into a million tiny little pieces. I'm trying to put the pieces back together, she thought, trying to keep the tears at bay. I'm trying to put the pieces back together, but there are so many of them. How dare any woman hurt a man this much and leave him so broken.