At His Mercy

20

I get home to find that everyone is out. Zara is at her best friend's house and Ami Ji has taken Aya to some charity fundraiser.

I go upstairs, agitated. I don't know why, but the thought of her out and about playing the perfect daughter -in -law annoys me. But what irritates me even more is the thought of this morning in the shower. The plan is backfiring. Just being near her is making me revert back to the old me, as if I'm somehow going into default mode. I'm kissing her and touching her as if- well as if I haven't waited 5 years to do it?

There are moments where I'm actually losing focus. Fast, brutal sex was on the agenda but it seems to be poignant and so satisfying on every level. I find myself devouring and savouring every touch. Because I'm making love to the old Aya. Without even thinking, the old me seems to be coming out -on a subliminal level.
I want to distance myself from her. Show her the man she turned me into. Hating the world and despising sentiment and affection.
That fear, vulnerability and sadness is still there in her and what's worse is I'm still responding to it! But this time, i seem to be causing it. Before i was the antidote. Now every time she looks at me- it seems she is communicating regret and hate. Worse- she's acting like I'm the antagonist and she's back in victim mode. She's manipulating me. There's no other explanation.
I had imagined I would be able to harness her with sex. But she's got me under her control. I took her on the desk in my study! She's ruined it for me. How will i ever be able to go in there and not think of her accusing me of abandoning her with that sexy pouting mouth-swearing at me-her words so provocative, or look at the desk without thinking about those legs that go on forever, her black lace suspenders and high heels and how tight and satisfying it was to be buried so deep inside her? She's tainted it.
I need some distance, reassert the boundaries before it's too late.
And now this whole pregnancy- complication. If she thinks for one moment she's walking away with our child to become the self sacrificing heroin in her own little world- she's deluded. I'm going to keep our child with or without her. What do you mean without her?! Says a voice inside my head.

She walks in, when I'm sitting on the bed working. I see her stall when sees the cuffs on the dresser, stops mid-stride as she's walking through the room. Her eyes narrow and I see her head lift.

5 years ago. . . .

'Do you trust me?' I ask amusingly.

'Yes!' she replies immediately holding my hand, straddling me playfully.
I hold her gaze and then sit up. ' can you give me everything?' I ask sitting up, there's challenge in my voice.
'Yes' she says again without thinking. She's relaxed, all soft smiles and content. Utterly pliable.
' I want to have every part of you,' I say leaning over to the bedside table, 'I'm not sure if you can give me everything?' I stop and wait for my words to sink in. She's looking amused now. One eye brow raised quizzically.
'I want you to surrender everything to me. . .' I repeat and hold the cuffs out in the palm of my hand so she can see them clearly.
She fingers the rope, winding it between her finger.
'I trust you' she repeats and then holds out her wrists in surrender infront of her.