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“You didn’t call to say you’d gotten there,” Dawn said. Her voice was brittle, the way it got when she was about to have a full-blown panic attack. “You left before dawn this morning. You said you would call when you got there. How was I to know if you made it or if you’d been in a wreck and were lying on the highway somewhere, covered in—”
“Dawn,” he said softly but firmly. “I’m fine, love. I made it, but I’ve been busy checking in and getting settled in my cottage. I’m sorry I hadn’t called yet.”
Dawn took a deep breath on the other end of the line. It was the sort of thing her therapist had taught her and that he’d worked to reinforce when things got bad.
“I’m alright,” she said at last, her voice calmer, but still tense. “I can hear your voice, you’re safe at your meditation retreat, all is well.”
“That’s it,” Aled said, flushing a little over the small lie he’d told his siblings. “Now, tell me two other things you can hear,” he said, willing his sister to find her balance.
“I can hear the traffic and children laughing in the park,” Dawn said.
“Good. Now what’s something you can smell?”
“The coffee I just made.”
Aled grinned. Dawn wasn’t supposed to have caffeine, but he had a hard time denying her that pleasure. “And what are three things you can see?” he asked.
“The clock over the table, the hob, and the pretty platter Aunt Grace gave us that doesn’t fit in the cupboard.”
“Good,” Aled said with a smile. He was a little too aware of some of the other guests watching him from the terrace, so he started to wrap things up. “Now, I’ll be home on Monday evening,” he said. “If you need anything before then, who will you call?”
“Dr. Gable or Dr. Tenthoff,” Dawn said, considerably calmer than when she’d called him. “Or Jeremy, if he’s not being a complete wanker.”
Aled laughed out loud. Jeremy was his and Dawn’s brother. He’d lived with them in the house in London Aled had bought with the money from his parents’ life insurance policy at first, but he’d recently moved into his own flat. Jeremy was already two years into his degree in London, albeit at a different college than the one he and Dawn were about to attend. Not having Jeremy under the same roof with Dawn while Aled was away for the weekend had been a major concern for everyone.
“Jeremy loves you, and so do I,” Aled said. “But now I’ve got to go. Kit has just arrived, and he’ll probably want to drag me off to some sort of yoga class.”
“Tell Kit I say hi,” Dawn said, her voice back to being her usual, bright and buoyant self. “And I won’t tell Jeremy that you’re actually at some deviant sex camp where you will be doing naughty, kinky things all weekend. Bye!” She rushed through the last bit, then ended the call before Aled could do more than drop his mouth open.
He pulled his phone away and stared at it for a moment, his face hotter than the sun, as Kit spotted him and headed his way.
“Something wrong?” Kit asked as he reached Aled.
Aled let his mouth hang open for a moment more before snapping it shut. He tucked his phone into his back pocket and muttered, “Either she just made a particularly lucky joke or Dawn knows where I actually am this weekend.”
Kit laughed. The man had a laugh that could travel halfway across England, but Aled liked it. He’d needed it more than a few times in the last years to pull him out of spirals of gloom.
“Dawn takes after your mother, and no one was savvier than Dina,” Kit said, then opened his arms to pull Aled into a bearhug. “How are you?”
“I’m actually good,” Aled said once they split apart. “Looking forward to this weekend, though I’m nervous as fuck.”
He winced a little at his swearing. He wasn’t the sort who swore all the time as a rule. It only came out in the most serious or emotional moments.
“Don’t worry so much,” Kit said, sliding his arm around Aled’s shoulder and leading him up toward the terrace and the entrance to the house. Kit was one of the few people tall enough to put his arm around Aled’s shoulders. “The kink community is very supportive, even of newcomers. I’ve mentioned to a few people that you’re new, and there’s a lot of interest in helping you find your way.”
Aled paused just inside the ballroom, whose doors led to the terrace. “You didn’t tell them about Mum and Dad, did you?” he asked, a sick knot forming in his stomach.
“No,” Kit said, stepping back. “That’s your story to tell and yours alone.”
Aled appreciated Kit’s discretion more than he could say. It was one thing to tell people his parents had died, but it was entirely different to tell people it had been a murder-suicide and that he’d been the one to find the bodies when he was just eighteen.
The weekend ahead of him wasn’t about dwelling on the past, though. God only knew how much everyone who knew him and his siblings unwittingly forced them to do that. This weekend was about exploring all the new parts of himself, the parts that he wanted to embrace and take with him into the future. They were the parts of him that made him feel like he had control of his life again.
“I’m nervous,” he admitted to Kit as they headed forward through the ballroom. “I’m eager to learn new things and to play, but I don’t want to accidentally hurt anyone for real again.”
Kit grinned at him. “A concern every new dom has. But I’ve trained a lot of doms in my day, and believe me, you don’t have to worry. You’re a natural, Aled. That first time was a fluke. I would trust you to top me, if I had even a remote interest in subbing, which I most definitely donot.”
Aled grinned. He couldn’t imagine Kit being a sub any more than he could imagine all the traffic on the M25 suddenly going backwards.
