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Stefan
I pace my condo feeling absolutely sick. My stomach turns over and over as I replay Lily’s call on a loop in my head. She said she can’t go out tonight. She doesn’t feel well. She sounded dry, withdrawn.
Of course she did! She doesn’t want to be with me. That much is obvious. She’s disgusted with me. She must have gone online and researched a little. I’m sure what she found made her sick to her stomach. Sweat sticks to my skin as I rip my hands through my hair.
How could I be so foolish? How could I let someone this close to me again, close enough to hurt me? She’s a beautiful, wholesome girl, as wholesome as one can be with a sailor mouth, and I’m… I’m a savage who delights in degradation, control, and pain.
My breath whooshes from me in an exhale. Fuck this. We don’t have to have a d/s dynamic. We can just be together. Like normal people. My hand shakes as I unlock my phone and press her name. It rings. And rings. And rings. I call her again, and this time, it rings twice before it abruptly goes to voicemail.
I sink down to sit on the couch, clutching my phone for dear life. She’s freaked out. She’s never going to talk to me again. This is my fault. I’m the one who told her if she doesn’t like what she learns, we’ll go our separate ways.
I drop my head in my hands, queasy and livid. Livid with myself for telling her that, for trusting her, for falling in love with her. For fucking falling in love! Again! How many times do I have to feel this before I learn? No woman will love me. No woman can love me. I’m just sex. A good time. I know better, and yet, here I am. I need a fucking drink.
