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“You won’t,” Renée screams, “you can’t do this, he’s done nothing wrong, how dare you—”
“Renée,” he snaps. “Enough.”
“Topping from the bottom?” I tell him. “She’ll punish you for that tonight. But maybe you’ll enjoy that.” He flushes. I meet his eyes. “I wish it hadn’t come to this. We’ve known each other a long time.”
“Yeah,” he says. “And back when we met, we were equals. But you put yourself on a fucking pedestal and then wonder why we try and knock you off it.” His chest heaves.
I turn. Without looking at Renée again, I walk out, put my shoes on, and leave, closing the door behind me.
*
A few hours later, I’m at home, in a tee and track pants, on FaceTime with Saxon and Damon, a glass of whisky in my hand.
“Jesus,” Saxon says. “She’s a dominatrix?”
“Well, I couldn’t see any whips or paddles, but yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on there.”
“I didn’t think he’d be into S&M,” Damon says.
“I’ve always thought their cotton-rich socks are the best on the market,” Saxon replies.
“That’s M&S, idiot,” Damon tells him.
I give a short, tired laugh. They’re trying to cheer me up. It works, partly.
“I’m sorry,” Saxon says. He’s in his living room, and he looks over his shoulder as Catie walks up behind him and passes him a mug, probably of coffee. “Thanks, hun,” he says.
She bends and waves at the camera. “Hey guys.”
“Hey,” I say, smiling. She’s such a lovely girl, fragile and damaged, but positively glowing now she’s with Saxon. She makes me think of Kintsugi—the ancient Japanese art of repairing broken ceramics with gold to make them stronger and more beautiful. He’s healing her, helping her accept her past, and she’s becoming more beautiful and precious than before she was broken.
She wanders off, and he watches her go, then looks back at the screen. “Sorry. Where were we?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say softly. “Go and be with your girl.”
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m going to listen to Alice’s podcast in a minute.” I told both of them about her secret occupation not long after I found out.
“All right. You know where I am if you need anything.” He waves, then signs off.
Damon’s also at home, sitting out on his deck, by the look of it. “Do you think he’ll resign?”
“I don’t know. She might talk him out of it.”
“I don’t get why guys like to be dominated,” he says. “I mean, each to their own in the bedroom, sure. But I don’t understand it.”
“Nah, me neither. She didn’t like me standing up to her, that’s for sure.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t pounce on you and tie you up with a ball gag.”
“Jesus. That’s an image that’s going to stay with me.” I shudder at the thought. I did not find Renée attractive in the slightest.
He laughs. “Who’s Alice interviewing tonight?”
“An author called Abby Richardson.”
“She wroteLife on Mars, right? I’ve read that.”
