Their Tale

Meadows

During breakfast downstairs, we speak of the meeting with the relaters. Make sure that we can all make it to the location in time, with Celeste having a drive from her new studio and that it doesn't disturb my therapy time.

Having decided to go every day had been really helpful with all we went through a few months ago. Five months ago, to be more exact. It feels like just yesterday I was running out of that penthouse with a man dead on the floor, and a gun in my pocket. Some days are easier than others, but the thoughts, my thoughts are never-ending reminders.

I gasp, surprised by the feeling of Celeste's hand on mine, bringing me back. Giving me looks of sympathy and support, they say nothing but give me all I need to know I'm not alone. That I am here, and so are they.

We enjoy the time together, even speaking if was excited to start my dancing classes in a few days. After the shot wound, I had to give time off from dancing to heal, but now that I am okay, I am more than ready to start dancing again.

Breakfast comes and goes before we go our separate ways after giving warm goodbyes. When I reach Dr Meadows's office, I try to calm myself.f but naturally, I do feel anxious. Having to speak to her has made so much difference, but it still feels so suffocating. Like all that I tell her makes no difference to the fact that I have blood on my hands and I have heaviness in my heart more than ever.

Finding myself taking off my grey and white cardigan before getting comfortable I think of this morning. How do I even start to voice what Master picked up this morning? He knew what was going on in my mind as he understood it. on a personal level. I just don't want to feel it. I don't want anything to change.

Sitting across from me, Dr Meadows says nothing, just waiting for me to come back, "Would you like us to start with what has been so heavy on you this morning." Sighing at what seems to be the worst transparency of a person's emotions I sit myself more comfortable for the uncomfortable truth, "There is a balance, everything has a balance. The relationship I am in with Angel and Celeste is a delicate one." She nods, letting the waves of deeply coiled yet volumes hair brush away from her face before she gestures for me to continue, "Do you mean this in the dynamic of an alternative relationship?"

Speaking to anyone about my relationship had been damn near non-existent. There was a level of confidentiality I hold to the nature of the intimacy I shared with my lovers, but most of all. the idea of what I took. Given to me by my Master was stunning for those unprepared.

"Yes. The pride and fulfilment I feel being a submissive, more so when I am next to Celeste fills me. The control taken by Master, how he hangs us in his care filled balance, I'm safe. I knew them like this, the roles beside and before me, but now. I don't even know how to explain it to myself what I want let alone speak to them about it."

Shifting in my seat, I fall silent, not ready for the words I am waiting for, "Don't explain it, state it." She asks with a tone willing to listen and open to understanding, "I want control, yet I want submission." I say out loud for the first time. Though her question brings a whole new question to mine, "Who do you want those to and from?" Looking up at her, I freeze because I don't know. I don't know, and I have never thought about it. Never really allowed me to.

I have never wanted Angel, my Master. in a state of submission towards me. The same for Celeste in control because that is not who she is so, I have never thought of her that way.

 "Evita, why haven't you spoken to your partners about this, seeing that it troubles you so greatly?" Running my fingers through my straightened hair, I shake at the thought of my response to her question, "Because I feel like I am asking too much from them both. I am asking Angel to give space in his title and power as a dominant and Master, and I am asking Celeste to give me more. She already gave up a part of the man she loves to let me have it."

Hearing my voice speak these words, I feel my chest press into me, refusing air, "You are allowed to evolve, change and grow. Your partners may be there, a stability and a sanctuary but they do not grow aligned with you. What they can do is help you grow upright, talking to them, building on the trust that you built." The repercussions of her words, if attempted, were daunting.

I'm just so scared, terrified more than anything "I don't want to lose them, because of a kink." I whisper, my eyes meeting the floor. "That fear is perfectly normal because you care about their opinions. What they say and what they feel about you, but diminishing the importance of your problems makes it harder to deal with them."

Giving myself a few moments, I go quiet to come to terms with the words and emotions connected with them. Not knowing your place in a relationship that holds so much stability in the role you play as a person and partner can be terrifying, "How has the relationship been in itself, emotionally and even physically?"

 Our relationship has really been growing. Not just with who we were separated, but since we had gotten back together, "It has been good. Celeste's sobriety is going well, her art has really helped and Angel is working on heading back to the hospital..." Drifting, I can't help but wonder back to the recent usual tense calls that he would take in private or come back from and look as though he was getting prepared for the death penalty.

Dr Meadows sees this, her silence a spot for me to allow me to finish my thoughts "Something has been worrying him though. It has not disturbed our relationship, but he is holding something in. I know he will speak to us about it when he is ready but, it doesn't make it easier watching him struggle with this." With her legs crossed and her head nodding, she writes down notes in a black leather-bound book, "Do you believe that he is not trying to control what he needs support with?"

Silence, I couldn't be sure because I didn't know what was happening. All I could tell myself and believe was that he would tell us the truth just as we did when something was wrong, and in that, we would come together and figure it out as one. Honestly and trust as we promised.

At the end of the session, I give her a thank you. Grabbing my bag from the floor, we walk together to the door "You clocking off." She locks the door behind her before turning with a shaking head "No, my next patient is in a few hours so my husband is fetching me for lunch." A glow of love shines in her words about her husband. Listening to problems and haunted stories all day, it is good that she has love that makes her remember lighter things.

Stepping out of the building, she gives a small gasp but I freeze, the view of a past life standing at the bottom of the stairs with a bouquet in hand. His focus shifts from mine all too quickly when he sees Dr Meadows step closer to him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kisses her. Loving and compassionate, but all I see is Pierce.

Memories of my last flaunt rush through my mind as I try to remember all the others, most especially if he ever wore a ring. He was not married; fuck sake Pierce had a girl on his arm for every one of those dirty events. I was on his arm for most of them, and now he is a poster husband, flowers and suit included.

Does Dr Meadows know; I named Pierce in my session? When the kiss ends, she thanks him for the flowers with the last kiss before realizing I am behind her, "Honey, this is one of my patients, Evita, this is Hendry Meadows. My husband."

Never have I seen a man look so humble when I have seen his cruelty, but he plays it well as he takes a step forward with his hand out, the gold wedding band in shine and pride on his finger, "Good to meet you Evita, Hendry Meadows." That's why she didn't seem weird when I said his name because Pierce is not his name. Shaking his hand with a practised smile, I respond to him, "Nice to meet you, I must leave but I hope you enjoy yourselves." Letting my hand go, he wraps his arm around his wife's, an amused expression on his face.

With the last goodbye we head our separate ways but the encounter never leaves my mind. I wonder if she knows that her husband is a drug and gun dealer. One who has had a string of women by his side.  Deciding that I would let this go, filing it as a cruel coincidence, I continued with my day.