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No.
Wait, what? Could he really have…
A weird sound bubbled up my throat, and I slapped a hand over my mouth as my eyes flooded with tears that immediately spilled over. No fucking warning. Emotions exploded within me and needed out. Oh my God—oh my fucking God! He’d quit? He was never going back there? I whimpered and couldn’t even begin to keep the sobs at bay. I broke down right then and there, and Master Greer scooted closer and hugged me to him.
“I told you, pet,” he murmured. “Y’all’re gonna work this out.”
I cried like a freaking baby and didn’t know what the fuck was happening to me. Was it relief? Did I believe him? My body sure reacted like we were going with this. Lucian had quit his job—for the right reasons. What did that mean? That he did it for me? Or for himself? Which was the actual right reason. Crap would never work if he’d done such a thing for someone else, regardless of how much he loved me. He’d ended his entire damn career—he better have done it because it was what he wanted. Otherwise, who knew—he might grow to resent me.
“He actually quit?” I cried.
“He really did, Cam.”
Jesus Christ.
I definitely felt the relief now. It crashed down on me so forcefully that I would’ve fallen over if I hadn’t already been sitting. He quit. He’s not going back there. He quit for the right reasons. More than that, he was taking this seriously. If he’d remained dismissive about the dangers, he would’ve stayed at his job. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t going back there.
Master wasn’t going back there.
He was making changes.
I sobbed into my hands, and a heavy weight lifted off my shoulders.
Maybe I dared to hope?
He was making changes. Major changes. Changes I could latch on to and hopefully watch come to fruition.
Hopefully hope, hopelessly hopeful, hope, hope, hope.
I was hopelessly hopeful.
I whimpered and wiped at my cheeks, and Master Greer squeezed me a little tighter and kissed the side of my head.
“Want me to replace those tears with absolute awe?” he asked. “Your Owner and I had a goatee phase back in 2013 or 14.”
What the fuck—that came out of nowhere.
“I know,” I sobbed. “It wasn’t your best decision.”
KC had shown me pictures.
“What’re you talkin’ about?” Master Greer scoffed. “We looked fuckin’ hot.”
“Not because of the goatees,” I wept. I scrubbed at my face and took a couple unsteady breaths while Master Greer pretended to be offended. Or half pretended. I wasn’t sure.
“What do you know—you’re a brat,” he muttered.
I was not!
I sniffled and eased away from him. Deep breaths. Master had quit his job, and he no longer had a goatee. More than ever, I had to go home. I couldn’t stay here. I needed to see him.
“I need to be with him, Sir,” I croaked.
Master Greer’s gaze softened, and he touched my cheek briefly. “I figured you’d say that.”
I nodded once and used the bottom of my tee to wipe my cried-out face.
Christ, what a freaking day. And it was insane how quickly some of my fears and even most of the anger just evaporated. Because this was it. He’d quit his job. He was finally listening to his doctors, to KC, and to me. He was listening to his blood pressure. No words could describe the relief.
