Chapter Twenty-Eight

Unlike my first attempt, this meal for Braden turns out perfectly. The shrimp étouffée is spicy and delicious, and the Beaujolais-Villages I picked complements it very well. We don’t talk a lot at dinner. Just a little about his trip and about the posts I’ve done this week. He seems pleased with my progress as an influencer.

“I’ve been using the skincare line for a week now,” I tell him. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re as beautiful as you always were.”

“Seriously. My skin tone is a little more even, don’t you think?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“Are you kidding me? I look better, and you don’t even notice?”

He chuckles. “Contrary to popular belief, beauty routines aren’t for men, Skye. They’re for women.”

“I just mean—”

“You mean you want me to tell you that you look better. What if I did? The first thing you’d say then is, ‘You mean you didn’t like how I looked before?’”

I scoff. “Maybe some women. I wouldn’t.”

He shakes his head. “You aren’t like any other woman I’ve ever met, so maybe you wouldn’t. But I’m telling you the truth when I say I don’t see a difference. You were beautiful a week ago, and you’re beautiful now.”

My cheeks warm. I’m not beautiful like Tessa, but in Braden’s eyes, I am. That’s all that matters.

Already I see I’ve come a long way in a short time.

“Ready for dessert?” I ask.

“Let’s talk first,” he says.

My heart beats hard. Here it is. The time of reckoning. I’m going to open up to Braden, and I have to accept that he may not be ready to do the same thing.

That’s okay.

It has to be.

Plus, maybe he’ll surprise me.

“All right,” I say. “You want any coffee?”

“I think just a little more wine.” He fills his goblet halfway and then lifts his eyebrows at me.

“No thanks.” I smile. “You want to sit on the couch? It’s more comfortable.”

“Sure.” He picks up his wineglass and walks to the living room.

I follow him, sit down, and pat the seat next to me.

He sits.

“You asked me a question the last time we were in New York together. A question I couldn’t answer then.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t think I was brave enough to find the answer.”

“That’s not exactly what I said. I said I was going to have my say, and then you could have yours, if you were brave enough.”

“All right. The exact words don’t really matter, because I’ve realized it’s not the answer that’s important in the long run.”

“Oh?”

“No, it’s the question. You see, Braden, I asked myself the question. I asked why the choking was so important to me, and I have an answer, but it’s not even the answer that’s important.”

“What do you mean?”

“Figuring these things out isn’t black-and-white. I know you like to think of things that way. You’re a lot like Tessa in that way.”

He chuckles. “Am I?”

“Don’t laugh at me.” I give him a friendly swat on the upper arm. “I’m serious. She’s an accountant. A mathematician. There’s always a right and wrong with her. You’re the same way.”

“I’ll admit to being analytical, yes.”

“I’m an artist. Black and white only exist to me as opposite ends of a spectrum. There’s so many colors in between. And then in between the in-between.”

“Am I in for a philosophy lesson?”

“I’m just trying to explain that yes, I have an answer to your question, but I’m not going to stop asking the question. It’s a journey. And while the answers themselves are important, they are only points along the way of the journey. To me, the answer isn’t as important as the question. And the question you asked me was why the neck binding was so important to me. I have an answer to that question, but before I got there, I had to ask another question.”

“You’re talking in circles, Skye.”

“I’m not, actually. You’re just refusing to see the shades and layers between black and white.”

“That’s not true. I wouldn’t be much of a businessman if I didn’t recognize that there aren’t any absolutes.”

“There you go, then. There is no one absolute answer to your question. I have an answer today—and that answer makes sense today—but I feel there’s more to learn about myself, and that might change the answer later.”

“Fair enough. What’s your answer today?”

“I was punishing myself.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Once I figured out that I saw the bondage as punishment, I knew right away why I wanted it. It’s because I feel like a fraud. The only reason anyone cares what I think is because I’m your girlfriend. Things went down and down after that. I lost my friendship with Tessa. I did a half-assed post for Susanne because I didn’t think I was any better than that. And then, that night in New York, you left me, too.”

“But that was after—”

“I know. I know. I’m getting to that.”

“Okay,” he says. “Go on.”

“So I talked to my mother, and I talked to a therapist, and with their help, I figured something out.” I hold back tears as I pour out the story of the cornfield with the added memory of catching my mother in bed with Mario. About how my mother didn’t want any more children.

“I guess she agreed with you,” I tell him. “I was a challenge.”

“I hope you’re not blaming yourself for any of this.”

“I’m not anymore. But I was for a long time.”

“But you didn’t remember.”

“I didn’t, but somewhere inside me, my subconscious did. You see, I felt like a fraud, but that was only the top layer. The icing on the cake. The cake and filling were much more significant, and they were hiding in my subconscious. When Rosa asked me what I like about our lifestyle, I told her how much pleasure it gives me. But when she asked me why I desired the neck binding so much, even after you told me it was a hard limit, I had to really think how I felt at the time.”

“And how did you feel?”

“I wasn’t thinking of it as a turn-on. I was thinking of it as a necessity. Then I had to figure out why it was a necessity.”

“And now?”

“It’s no longer a necessity. I can’t deny that I was enthralled by the concept. Part of me still is, but I can accept that it’s a hard limit for you. And I can accept that without knowing why.”

He pierces my gaze. “Can you? Really?”

I nod. “I understand your reticence. You know me well, but once a few things click into place, everything changes. I’m not telling you that my stubborn nature will be gone overnight.”

“You wouldn’t be you, otherwise.”

“Exactly. And you like a challenge.”

“I do.”

“Knowing myself better doesn’t change the essence of who I am,” I say. “It only changes my reaction. I was a difficult kid who was a lot for my mom to handle. I’m still that way, and she loves me despite all of it.”

“I love you, too, Skye.”

I smile. “I know. And I love you.”

“Are you sure you can give up the breath control?”

“Absolutely. I can do it because it’s no longer necessary. Admittedly, I’m intrigued by it, but I love you more than I need it.”

He fingers my hair. “I’m very glad to hear that.”

Can you tell me why it’s a hard limit for you?

The words are lodged in the back of my throat. My curiosity, my need to know…all of it is trapped there with the words I want to say.

But I keep them there.

I will not nag him for information. Not anymore. I respect him too much to do that.

But there is something else I need to get off my chest.

“Braden…”

“Hmm?” He kisses my forehead and sniffs my hair. “Love that raspberry shampoo.”

My skin tingles, and the tickle between my legs intensifies.

No. Have to talk first.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

“What?” He stiffens slightly.

“Relax. It’s nothing bad, but I want complete honesty.” At least on my end, though I keep that last part to myself.

“All right.”

“Addie’s sister called me.”

“Apple? Why?”

“She offered to tell me what went on between you and Addie ten years ago.”

He stiffens further. In fact he’s rigid. He could be a statue carved in marble. “I see.”

“I was tempted,” I say. “I went for a drink with her and was ready to hear the whole story, but then I remembered something you said to me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You said I could take my time. That we could talk when I was ready. You didn’t push me, Braden, and I love you for it. I owe you that same respect and courtesy.”

His lips curve upward into a half-smile. “That must have been difficult for you.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

He cups my cheek and kisses the tip of my nose. “You deserve a reward.”

“I think so.”

He kisses my nose again. “You’re an amazing woman, Skye. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

I can’t help myself. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Woman!” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Don’t you know by now what you do to me?”

“Yes, I know. You do the same thing to me. You have since I first laid eyes on you. No one can deny your obvious physical appeal, but it was your demeanor that got to me. Your presence. You fill every room you’re in, Braden. Nothing scares you. Nothing.”

“Only one thing,” he says, cupping my cheek once more.

“What’s that?”

“The thought of my life without you.”