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“Good to meet you,” I say.
“You, too,” he replies. He glances at Tim.
I guess and say, “Yes. I’m part of what it is we do.” It’s a kind of code word among BDSM people, that phrase.
“DDlg?” he asks.
“Guilty,” I say with a chuckle.
“If it’s something to be guilty about, I don’t want to be innocent. I just came out to see if Tim’s guest has any allergies. Do you?”
“None at all,” I reply.
“I wish he was allergic to self-doubt,” Timothy says.
I roll my eyes and sit down. Reuben says, “You had plenty of doubt back in boot camp, pal,” and nods to me as he leaves.
“I like him,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah.”
The rest of the conversation isn’t about our relationships. The meal might be the best I’ve ever had, and I tell him I’ll get my parents to spread the word among their wealthy friends. When we part ways, I’m feeling good on one hand but also troubled on the other. I agree with Timothy. The key to all this is me talking to Vanessa. The trepidation I feel is simple, though. What if I find out she finds me far too strict? What if I’m too harsh with her?
The problem is that no matter how much I might want to change my behavior, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to. I’m pretty damned set in my ways. Of course, that’s not the real problem. That’s just what might lead to the real problem. What if I lose her? I’m so far past the point of being able to handle that. I love that little girl and I love her more than I have ever loved anyone or anything in my life. Just the thought of losing her has me nervous as hell and almost sick to my stomach.
I pull over to the side of the road about a block from the house and do some deep breathing exercises to push myself out of my funk. Vanessa deserves me at my best, and when I arrive, I want her to find me at my best.
