Alex and Emma Pt. 19

Nine months later, just before Christmas, I'd opened a letter from out of state with a familiar last name in the return address. It had been a short, handwritten missive, thanking me for all of the time I'd spent with him. For having allowed him to cherish me and teach me what he'd known about submission. He'd hoped that I'd enjoyed it, as well. I'd smiled at that. But the last line had dropped me to my knees, sobbing.

—If you're reading this, Little One, I'm already gone. Be brave, and don't settle for less than you're worth. You deserve the best. Always your Sir in my heart, Dale.—

Ruth had shown up on my doorstep on Christmas Eve, two days after I'd cried my eyes out to her on the phone. I hadn't asked her to come. She had just known I needed her to. That was two years ago.

There had been a handful of other Doms from the chatroom. But as good as they all were, none had made me feel the way I had when I'd been with Dale. Maybe because they were all strictly bedroom play, and I'd had a taste of what it could be like to have more. To have a real relationship with the kink factor. If they hadn't ended it first, I'd always found some reason to split after a few weeks. The longest relationship had lasted just over a month and a half, but even it hadn't met my expectations.

I'd tried going the vanilla route with dating for a while. But each time I was with a guy, I'd found myself wanting to respond with "Yes, Sir," or "No, Sir," whenever he'd asked me a question related to sex. And the one that I had gone to bed with, I'd bit my lip, trying not to cry when he came in the condom and didn't finish me off.

So I'd gone back online. Met the guy who wouldn't take "No" for an answer. And had sworn off all men for the past year. Until Alex. He was the closest thing I'd found to what I'd had with Dale, and he also had a lot of the qualities I'd been drawn to in those other men. The closest thing to a perfect partner for me. Yet here I was, going to another country instead of fighting for what I wanted. Leaving my heart and my relationship with him hanging in the balance.

###

My mood brightened significantly the moment I departed the plane and stepped through the doorway into the receiving gate to see Ruth's smiling face.

She hugged me wildly like we were two college sorority girls. "I can't believe you're here!"

"Of course! I wouldn't have missed it. I'm so glad you sent the invitation." I smiled at her after she kissed my cheek, taking in her short but bright red curls. The last time I'd seen her, she was a blonde with straight locks. Dyed, not a wig, she'd assured me. Now, I ruffled her hair playfully, watching the curls bounce around her head. "The red is striking. I love it."

"So does Pierre," she winked at me. "The carpet hasn't matched the drapes for quite a while now. But he prefers hardwood, anyway."

I just gawked at her while she looped her arm through mine and led me toward baggage claim.

"So, tell me all about what you're working on now. Not the stuff you get paid for."

"Well, I haven't really had time."

She pulled me to a hard stop. "What's his name, and where did you meet him?"

"All in good time, Ruth," I giggled. "All in good time."

###

The timing happened to be the day after her reception when we were dining at a swanky restaurant that reminded me a lot of the one I'd taken Alex to just the week prior.

I told her all about the dating app, Alex's first communication, our first conversation on Skype, our first in-person meeting at the café, and then our first scene together. Though I just skimmed over the details on the latter. First, she giggled, then I giggled. When we got too loud and other patrons looked our way, we hid our laughs behind glasses of wine. Only to start again when I shared something else.

The waiter came and cleared our dessert plates, topping off our glasses. He left us to relax a bit after he took care of our bill, which Ruth insisted on paying. I only refused once before I gave in and returned to sipping my wine.

Ruth put her credit card away and settled back, crossing her legs. "So, everything you've told me about this Alex guy makes him sound absolutely dreamy. Young. Single. Smart. Passionate. Kinky. Adores you to pieces. And he's great in bed...or wherever else you've found that suits the moment."

"Mmm hmm." The corners of my mouth turned up as I pictured him...in all of those places.

"So what's the problem, Emma?" She looked at me over the rim of her glass.

I sighed and shook my head. "I guess, I want more. I want the sex, yes, but I want a real relationship, too. Like I had with Dale. I think Alex is capable of that. I just..."

"You've been together what? Almost four months? Plenty of time to be open with him. But have you?"

"No." I stared into the ruby red liquid in my glass. Swirled it around a bit.

"Then it's your own damn fault if it fails, sweetheart."

I sighed and looked off in the distance, taking another sip. My silence hadn't helped the situation. Quite possibly, it had made it worse. Why had I needed to fly several thousand miles to figure that out? I'd been trying to avoid something that may have never happened. Sure, he was busy with finishing college. And he'd be looking for a job. But if I told him I would be patient...that I would wait for him...

"You have to talk to him," she continued, her tone a little softer. Maybe because I sniffled. "If you don't tell him how you really feel, he'll never know. Give him a reason to fight for you."

"Thanks, Ruth." I dabbed my napkin at my eyes and gave her a smile. Knowing what I needed to do once I got back to my hotel room. "You always have the right thing to say."

She returned my grin and tipped her glass to me. "I haven't been a popular author of sex stories for fifteen years for no reason, sweetheart."

###

Before I went to bed, I shot off a message on the Skype app after seeing the green dot indicating he was online and active.

Emma: I just wanted to say I hope your exams are going well. I'm looking forward to seeing you when I get back Saturday. Help you work off some of that tension I'm sure has been building up. I have a surprise for you. Can't wait until you see it. - LO

When there was no reply for thirty minutes, I figured he must be busy...or sleeping. My status was always online, even when I wasn't. I signed off and shot a text to Ruth, asking her if there were any local stores that catered to our kind then crawled under the covers.

I was in the middle of a wonderful dream when an alarm went off. It took a second to wake up and realize it was my phone ringing. The clock on the bright screen said it was quarter after five. In the morning. And the caller ID showed it was my mother.

"Mom? What's wrong?" I sat up and turned on the lamp, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand. "Is Dad okay? Oh, good. So what— Oh, no. Yes, I understand. Can you send me a text with the details? No, I'm not at home. I'm in Canada...yes, the country. Yes, Mom, I'm fine. I'm not in trouble with the law. I'm here on business. I have a flight back tomorrow morning. I'll see if I can switch it to come your way... No, I don't mind staying in my old room. Mom? I'm sorry Grandma died. I know that you two were always close. Thanks for calling me. Yes, I love you, too. I'll call when I get to town. Okay, bye-bye."

I collapsed sideways on the bed and flung my arm over my eyes, too tired to cry. I was only going home to support my mother. Maybe it made me a bad granddaughter, but I hadn't stayed in touch with my only living grandparent. I'd always felt distanced from her growing up—resented, with the way she doted on my brother. My mother had once told me her mother had always wanted a little boy, but she'd had six girls. So when she'd finally had a grandson, she treated him like her own. And my mother let her. Maybe that's why my grandmother and her had had such a close bond.

After tossing and turning for quite a while, I gave up and set about the task of getting my plane tickets switched to the East Coast rather than back home. Another hour later, my credit card a little heavier, I sent a text to Ruth and to Alex explaining the situation.

My phone dinged that I had a new message just as I jumped into the shower. I stuck a wet hand outside the curtain and held the phone up, hoping it was Alex. But it was Ruth telling me she'd take me to the proper store—answering my text from last night—and that she was sorry to hear of my grandmother's passing, though I knew she knew that our relationship was strained. Or rather, non-existent except for by blood. She said we'd spend the day together, pampering me before she sent me back to the states to deal with the relatives. I loved that woman.

Just as she promised, we had massages, facials, and a mani-pedi before lunch. Then we hit up the kinky shop. She just winked and gave me the biggest grin when I picked out what I wanted and had my purchases mailed home. Before I hit the sack, we had another evening of wining and dining.

Bright and early the next morning, she was waiting at my hotel room door to escort me back to the airport. She had breakfast in a bag all ready and two cups of coffee. We talked and ate on the way, promising to stay in touch more often.

At the terminal, I hugged her. "Thank you for a wonderful time, Ruth. I've enjoyed it all. Well, almost all of it. Like that bit of motherly advice...and a certain phone call. But I'm glad I came. Congratulations again, you deserve it."

She gave me a kiss on the cheek. "It's been my pleasure, Emma. Call any time you need me. And do keep me abreast of the situation with Alex, will you, eh?"

I nodded, smiling widely. "Will do, Ruth. Take care."

At my gate, I had just enough time to check my phone. There was nothing from Alex in either Skype or on the phone's messaging program. I sent him another text and asked how he was doing, now that his finals were done. The call for boarding sounded, and I got in line, exchanging my phone in my bag for my boarding pass. I'd call him once I touched down out east.

But once more, my plans were altered when I had to finagle with the car rental agency at the airport. Too much time later, I had the ugliest colored vehicle known to man but was on my way to my parents' house. My childhood home.

From the moment I stepped through the door, my mother didn't stop talking about my grandmother. She didn't ask how I was doing. What I'd been up to with work lately. If I was seeing anyone.

I tried not to be hurt, telling myself that she was grieving. She'd just lost her mother. Granted, my grandmother was in her late nineties and had been in a nursing home for the past ten years, unable to speak for the last five. But still, I was my mother's only daughter. Her eldest of two children. I hadn't seen her since two summers ago when my brother had gotten married. In my defense, it was hard to get together when we lived on opposite coasts. My job paid me well, but not well enough to travel that distance frequently. And she'd never made the effort to come see me.

I crashed that night and slept decently despite the accommodations, which were my old single bed in my old bedroom. Although I'd agreed it would be okay, my mother had failed to tell me she'd redecorated. As in, she'd filled it with everything she'd treasured from her mother's home. I felt like I was sleeping in a museum and even dreamt that I'd been encased in one of those air-tight Plexiglas enclosures to keep the dust out.

When I woke late the next morning, I found my mother bustling about the kitchen, the contents of the fridge on the counter alongside two tin-foiled casserole dishes. The doorbell rang before I could ask her if she wanted help. My father was stretched out on the couch in the den—his typical place for a Sunday—so I answered the door for them only to find a neighbor with another casserole dish.

And thus the day played out. Even before lunch, family started showing up, forcing my father from his favorite spot so others could sit down. Somehow, my mother found space for everything...and found time to sit with friends and family to swap stories. I, of course, played hostess seeing to everyone else's needs, barely finding time to make myself a plate of food when two of my aunts took it upon themselves to make a smorgasbord on the kitchen island.

On Monday, the funeral was packed, which wasn't surprising despite all of my grandmother's seven siblings having died long ago. There were my five aunts, their husbands, and at least a dozen or so cousins—all girls, to my grandmother's chagrin—under just her lineage. Each of her four brothers and three sisters had had kids, too, which were all married with offspring of their own. It was the damndest-looking family reunion I'd ever seen. And of course, my brother was there with his wife, who was just starting to show with their first. He gave a long eulogy, putting our grandmother on a pedestal that only he and my mother could see. Still, it was a nice ceremony and the weather was mild as the whole troop was transported to the cemetery.

I'd thought I could return home the day after the service. I'd never wanted to be by myself more than I did the last few days. But my mother begged me to stay on longer. They needed to clean out my grandmother's house that I hadn't realized had been sitting vacant but filled with her stuff all these years. She'd willed it to my mother, and the rest of the family had suspiciously gone back to their homes.

What little time I wasn't sifting through decades of doilies and boxes of trinkets, I holed away in my own antiquated bedroom, trying to rest. Wishing I'd checked into a hotel. I'd also been having trouble accessing the Internet, so I couldn't check Emails easily...or send and receive texts. But we were out in the country, a little too far to just run into town to get a good signal. I'd considered calling Alex from my parents' landline, but then I remembered they didn't have long-distance. I just prayed he'd forgive me for going off the grid for so long.

One extra week turned into two. Three times, I'd gone into town to get groceries—why, I don't know, when we had more than a month's worth of food in the freezer from all the generous folks who'd just adored my grandmother enough to bake for her family; or maybe they felt sorry for us. I'd been able to get Wi-Fi at the library, but there had only been a message from Ruth asking how I was doing...and had I had a chance to talk with Alex yet? I updated her that I was still with my parents but would let her know as soon as that talk happened. I sent Emails to my current clients, explaining the delay, and then I sent Alex both a Skype message and a text after an automated message on the phone kept saying that all circuits were busy and to try again later.

Emma: Alex, I'm sorry I haven't been in touch sooner. The Internet where I'm at is sketchy at best, and my phone calls won't go through. I sent a couple of messages about the situation I'm in, but you haven't responded. Is everything okay? Did I say or do something to upset you?

When my mother begged me to stay longer and help get the house ready to put it up for sale, I put my foot down. I told her I loved her, but I had to get back to my life. I'd intended to be away from home for the first week of May. It was almost June, for Pete's sake.

Two more days. That's as much as I would give her. I talked to a realtor and created a list of things my parents needed to do to sell, then I went into town and booked a flight back west. I was back at the library when I saw the notice on Skype that the contact I'd tried to reach did not exist. When I realized that Alex had used his school Email to register his account...when he'd sent me Emails. Having graduated, the address would have been revoked. That partly explained why he hadn't responded to that last message, but not the others...not the texts.

A sense of relief mixed with a different kind of tension came over me when the plane lifted off. I was finally going home. But what awaited me there remained heavy on my mind throughout the flight.

###

I returned from up north and out east exhausted and wanting to sleep for days. More than that, I wanted to be held in Alex's arms. To celebrate his graduation. After he explained why he hadn't answered me, that is.

Traffic seemed heavier than usual, but that was probably because I was in a hurry. It was mid-afternoon by the time I got to the other side of the city and drove straight to his place, parking in my usual spot. His car wasn't there, but there were lots of reasons why he'd not be home on a Wednesday afternoon. I would just crash on his bed until he came back. Then we'd talk.

I let myself in and automatically turned left to drop off my purse and keys on the little table between the door and kitchen before I noticed that the apartment was empty. As in, no furniture. No rugs. No decorations. Completely, fucking empty. I even checked the bathroom...the office...the bedroom. Nothing but dust particles dancing in the streams of sunshine pouring in the windows.

I stumbled around, my chest on fire, trying to find something to lean on. I ended up in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid. Dry-heaving. Too shocked to even be able to cry.

My fingers fumbled when I pulled up the message program and typed in Alex's name.

Emma: I can barely breathe. I'm here, you're not. Please explain?

The sun was setting by the time I came out of the bathroom, shadows filling the rooms now while I wandered them. Dragging my finger along the walls. Tears finally filled my eyes when I stood in the bedroom doorway. Vividly recalling where everything had been. Each thing we had done together there.

Back in the office, I sunk down to the floor, my back against the wall. My left arm propped up on my knee with my other leg stretched out in front of me, I stared across the room at the wall and the window for a long time. Almost hearing his grunts and my moans when he took me on the desk. Slammed my body against the wall. Held me on the couch.

After several deep sighs, I scrolled through the photos on my phone, hovering my thumb over the trash can icon when I came across the one of his cock. The ones of the women modeling rope bondage we'd discussed that very first night. But I couldn't do it. Not yet.

I flipped back to the message program and texted Ruth.

Emma: I'm home. He's gone. Cleaned the place out. I don't know what happened. I'm lost.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Tried to process all of the emotions swirling through me. Anger. Betrayal. Confusion. A deep pain I'd only ever felt once before that I knew was heartbreak. And that caused me to think of Dale. Of his final words to me.

Had I been settling with Alex, just to have someone? I'd wanted more from him. I'd been afraid to ask for it. And look what it had gotten me? Absolutely fucking nothing. What if I hadn't been so scared? Or maybe this was just the way fate wanted it to play out.

My phone dinged, and I almost dropped it while trying to unlock the screen. And then I let out a ragged sigh while a rogue tear trickled down my cheek.

Ruth: I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I could tell you all kinds of things right now, but none of them would make you feel better. I wish I could be there to give you a hug. Just know that this, too, shall pass.

Picking my heart up off the floor, I wandered through the rooms one last time. Kissing my fingers and placing them on the walls. Knowing I couldn't say goodbye to my memories, but the physical gesture provided a small bit of comfort.

###

It took two weeks for me to get the nerve up to send him another text after no response from the first. I couldn't handle calling him. Hearing his voice. But even then, I struggled with what to say. I wanted to lay into him about how he'd treated me by leaving without saying goodbye. But I also wanted to beg for him to take me back. In the end, I settled with something in between, like a mature adult would do.