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Charles would never want this. So many years after his death, he would be heartbroken to see her in this place, talking to others about how much she missed him, still wishing and hoping that he’d come back to her. We have one life to live, Mary, let’s live it right, Charles had said to her when he proposed.
Since he’d left her, so much time had passed.
She’d spent years of not truly living, but coasting with all her emotions closed off so as to be strong for others. Now that barrier was gone. She knew she had shut down, refusing to feel anything, knowing how much it hurt. She’d gone as far as to shut out every single friend of Charles’s, as it’d been too hard to see them, and she’d even done that to Dmitri for a long time.
She wasn’t broken any longer, or at least she didn’t feel that way now. Only gratefulness touched her.
Once she’d had a man that measured up to no one. A man who had given her a life of happiness she never thought she’d have. A man who had gifted her with more love in not only his touch, but in the children they had together.
Charles and she had their time.
Time that she’d never have again.
Time that she would never forget.
Though there was another man who made her feel all of what Charles had. One man who stirred that quivering sensation inside her that made her body awaken and freed her mind. A man who made her feel as though she was meant to be on this earth to make more than herself happy. That she could give to someone else in the way that she needed to be given.
A man that made her feel alive.
Elliott…
“Mary, do you feel sometimes as if you’re alone?” Helen asked.
She snapped out of her thoughts, replying without really thinking about it first. “Alone, no. Lonely, yes.”
Helen smiled. “You have us now. You can come to these meetings whenever you need to talk or to share how you’re feeling.”
Mary looked from sad woman to sad woman, and something in that knowledge didn’t make her feel good. No one knew her in this room. Not truly her. Not a single person understood her lifestyle and what she needed, as a submissive, to be centered.
Her grief and sadness hadn’t led her to be surrounded by people who loved her. It led her into a room of strangers. Why am I choosing this life? She chose loyalty to Charles over her happiness, even when Charles, her Dom, had ordered her to do exactly the opposite. She wasn’t being loyal to him, not in the way he would’ve wanted. She was being loyal in the way her heart thought it needed to be.
Charles would want her to be loved, and he definitely would be happy to know that she was being cared for by a Dom, who gave her everything she needed and more.
Elliott was a lot like Charles.
Their connection was very similar to what she had with her old Dom.
That’s what made it so special.
Though she realized the differences, too: Elliott wasn’t Charles.
As Mary scanned the expressions of misery around her, she knew with total certainty she did belong…just not here with these women. She rose from her chair and headed for the exit. “I’m sorry, I must go.”
“Are you okay?” Helen called after her.
Mary glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “You know, for the first time in years, I actually think I am.”
Chapter Seventeen
A few minutes after nine o’clock on Saturday evening, Elliott leaned against the brown leather chair
and sipped his scotch on the rocks. Tonight he wanted to be anywhere but at the play party. A day had passed since he’d sent Mary the flowers, but he hadn’t heard from her. While he had hoped she’d taken his advice and gone to the widow’s group this morning, he also sensed the slide of disappointment that their support hadn’t led her into his arms.
Needing silence, he rose from his chair, leaving the sensual sounds behind him and ignoring the naked bodies delighting in erotic adventures. He entered the patio and inhaled the rich scents of the greenery around him, embracing the warm air. He hadn’t played since his last night with Mary, and he sensed the strain within himself. It’d been years since he hadn’t had his Dominant needs met at his parties.
That was the very reason he arranged the parties, to ensure that that side of his cravings was satisfied. He worked better and was happier if his Dom was fulfilled. A long sigh escaped his mouth as he moved toward the corner of the dark patio.
Beneath a gas-lit lantern, he took a seat on the wicker chair, staring out at the stunning Vegas strip lit up in its glory. He took a sip of the scotch, letting the woodsy taste sit on his tongue and leaning his head against the wall.
