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Based on what I read, and what he said about it being a lifestyle, I didn’t know. Of course consent was always involved, but the reason I loved being with him so much was because he made me feel empowered. Even when he was exercising his dominance, I always consented and felt taken care of while giving up my control.
These women from his past were different than me. He’d made that clear. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he cared on a different level then? Or maybe I was looking at angles that didn’t exist and grasping at explanations without proper facts. One such thing that worried me was whether my difference from his past interactions with women was a bad thing. If I wasn’t a masochist, perhaps he wasn’t getting his needs fully met?
Jesus, I had no idea! The man shut down every time I broached a topic he didn’t like.
“What’s up with you?” Harper asked, looking at me from across the room. A commercial was on, which meant her attention was momentarily taken away from the game.
“Men are confusing. That’s all,” I said.
As if the universe could hear me, my phone rang. I reached for it on the coffee table.
“It’s my dad,” I said, reading the caller I.D.
Harper frowned at the phone like it was the anti-Christ calling. “I’ll give you some privacy.” She aimed the remote at the TV, and paused the game. “Yell when you’re done.”
She walked to her room, and I answered. “Hi, Dad.”
The man barely returned my texts and hadn’t taken my calls in the past. For him to be calling after seven o’ clock at night, when he would usually be at home with his wife, was odd.
“Hi, Pumpkin. How are you?”
“Ah, fine.” I was wondering what he was doing suddenly calling me, but my politeness won out. “How are you?”
“Well…I’m alright, I suppose.” The tone of his voice followed by a long sigh made a familiar sting in my chest rise.
Guilt.
Confusion.
Sadness.
My dad knew which strings to pull, and he could do it with a single inflection of his vowels. That was all it took for my mind to race, thinking he needed me. Thinking I could somehow help whatever was bothering him. Thinking we were still on the same team.
We aren’t, I reminded myself. We hadn’t been on the same team for a long time. But old habits were impossible to break, so I asked, “You sure everything is okay?”
“Yes. Seeing you today was just a reminder of how much I’m missing out on. You looked so pretty. Happy.”
My eyes suddenly ached and strained to keep tears behind them.
“Thank you,” I whispered. His words were so kind. It melted a piece of my heart that had been continually freezing for the past ten years. “I am happy.”
“Is it that man that makes you so happy? Jack, right?”
“Yes. It’s still new, but—”
“He likes you, I can tell.”
I hoped so.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since you quit. I was rash in dismissing you. I think you’d do great at Case-VanBuren.”
My heart wanted to ask why, but my head picked up on the slight altering of his voice, which made me realize that this wasn’t him calling to fix things between us. This was a sales pitch.
He was putting on the professional hat.
“I appreciate that, but I have a job for the summer now.”
“Of course, and I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that. Perhaps we can do something off the books to get you cemented in the company, then you can work while going to school, maybe oversee a single account, just to get your feet wet.”
