Hero Worship Pt. 04

The question that made Taylor the most uncomfortable was education. "Where did you study?" It was a simple, natural thing to ask, and she would answer Pepperdine, but there was shame in her voice. But if they followed up with 'When did you graduate?' she'd hem and haw and change the subject. I don't think I'd ever realized how much not finishing college really bothered her.

By four o'clock Taylor had only two pieces left from the two dozen or so we'd arrived with. Most were still in the booth with 'SOLD' tags on them, and people would be coming by on Sunday to pick them up.

Katrina had gone home a little after one with a headache, and I was sitting by her stuff just in case. She was making out pretty well, too, on account of all the extra traffic at the booth. Taylor was in the back talking to someone about a possible commission. I answered a question regarding one of Taylor's pieces for a passerby and the man with Taylor shook her hand and left, a large smile on his face. Taylor flopped down on her folding chair and shook her head.

"He wants me to do a waterfall sculpture for his backyard."

"Awesome."

"Six feet tall, and he's going to pay three grand for it. Plus materials"

I put my hand over my mouth. "Oh, my god! That's awesome!"

Taylor shook her head. "I'm starving. You want something from the trucks?"

"Sure. What were you thinking?"

"The curry truck?"

"That sounds great, sweetie." She didn't ask what I wanted. She was getting really good at ordering for me and picking out things I really liked. And she'd also made me try things occasionally I probably never would have without her. I loved that, even with the occasional miss.

She left out the side of the booth and headed off to the right, and I watched her backside sway in those tight jeans she was wearing. Her gait was easy and free. Just by the way she moved I could see how relaxed and happy she was. And god, she was gorgeous.

Things were finally starting to slow down some as more people were heading for food, and the heat of the day was at its zenith. Fifteen minutes later I sold a necklace for Katrina, having the lady purchasing it sign on a tablet with her finger after swiping her card. I slipped Katrina's iPad back into its pocket below the table before turning back to the walkway.

My heart froze in my chest as I saw my parents walking towards the booth. They hadn't seen me yet, and for an insane moment I considered diving under the table and hiding behind the ground length tablecloth. In retrospect that might have actually been the smart play. Instead I stood there like a cow staring at an oncoming train as they approached.

My mom's face broke into a wide smile when she saw me, and she waved. A stunned smile crawled across my face, and I frantically glanced down the street to see if Taylor was coming back. I didn't see her, but I knew she wouldn't be gone much longer.

"Hi, honey. This is really something."

"Hi! What, um, what are you doing here?" My voice came out high, squeaky and way too fast, and I could feel my heart suddenly pounding against my ribcage.

"You mentioned it, and it sounded like fun. This place really is something." My dad reached out to pick up one of Taylor's smaller pieces. "And it gives your mom a chance to catch a glimpse of this new beau of yours."

I opened my mouth to protest, but my mom held up her hand to stop.

"Don't worry, honey, we won't embarrass you. We'll just say 'Hi' and go."

"Mom, I mean, this, I just hate springing it on him." A spike of shame and guilt passed through me at my choice of pronoun. I glanced around looking to see if Taylor was coming. I was craning my neck to see further down the street when I heard her behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Hey, Aly, I got you some Vindaloo chicken curry. You OK?"

Taylor set two plastic containers down on the rear table. I wanted to cry. She saw the pain in my eyes and her face morphed into a look of concern. Looking past me, she saw the couple standing just behind.

"Can I help you?"

There was a note of challenge in her voice, like they'd been harassing me or something, so I cut in.

"No, these are my parents. Mom, dad, this is Ruth, she's a friend of Taylor's, too." The change in Taylor's physiognomy was like a knife in my heart. It wasn't hurt, or anger or even pain. There was nothing but acceptance of my betrayal, and it took everything in me not to collapse right on the spot.

"So, are you an artist, too, Ruth?"

"Yeah. I sculpt in metals, too." She stepped forward, but kept several feet of distance between us. Her voice was calm and even. I don't know if I was just imagining the hurt just under the surface, but I thought I could hear it.

"So, are all of these Taylor's?"

"All but the jewelry."

"This one was a winner, I see." Dad patted Pacifica, which was still sitting in a place of honor at the front of the booth.

They chatted for a few minutes more, while I stood back and wished that the ground would swallow me whole. Why was I being such a coward? All I had to do was stand forward and open my mouth. It'd be okay, I knew it, but I just couldn't move.

"So, Ruth, if we hang around, what're our chances of catching a glimpse of the elusive Taylor?" My mom glanced over at me, but luckily she mistook my abject misery for simple nervousness. "I've almost given up on that one ever introducing us."

I tried to make myself smile at her. Taylor glanced back at me before answering.

"I don't think Taylor will be back for awhile. There's a dinner for some of the contest winners. It usually goes pretty late.."

'Oh, well." My dad looked around at the metal sculptures again. "These are beautiful pieces, but your dinner's getting cold sweetheart, and so is Ruth's, so we'll leave you to it."

"Bye, sweetheart." Mom waved and they were gone into the crowd.

Taylor turned around, not looking at me, and sat in her chair. She was so quiet. I just stood there for what felt like several minutes before she finally spoke.

"Your food is getting cold."

"Taylor, I..." But I didn't get any farther before she turned away. "I'm sorry." My voice was a hushed whisper as I fought back tears.

"It's fine." It was so not fine, and the hurt in her voice cut my heart open. She sounded like this was normal, like she'd known this would happen, expected it, even. She was angry, but it was directed inward. She wasn't mad at me. God, I wished she were, that she'd yell, or cry, or curse at me, anything short of actual violence.

But she didn't. In an instant she'd become that same woman I'd first seen on the lifeguard tower again, full of resigned misery and painful loneliness. And I'd just caused a fresh new wound.

"Do you want me to go?"

"It doesn't matter, Aly." She mumbled something else, but I didn't hear it over the halting breath I was trying to draw. I warred inside myself for a painfully long moment. I wanted to throw myself at her feet and beg her forgiveness, but the possibility of rejection was so high, and it would hurt so much, I couldn't make myself do it.

I remembered all the times Taylor had told me how brave I was. But I wasn't. Not when it counted. I was a coward. And cowards run. So I did.

I slipped out the back of the booth and started walking away. I wasn't crying, I was still too numb, but that was coming. My car was at Taylor's apartment, so that's where I'd have to go. It was strange to think my parents were likely still on site, but calling them wasn't remotely possible. No way I'd be able to hold it together without letting them know what happened, or them just working it out themselves.

I moved through the people in a daze, heading in the general direction of the park entrance. It's hard to keep your bearings in a crowd where everyone is taller than you are, but eventually I found my way to the exit. I looked over my shoulder, desperately hoping a short haired, blonde lifeguard would be chasing after me. But she wasn't. I didn't blame her.

There was a bench by the access road separating the parking lot, so I sat down. Couples and families were walking past me, laughing and happy. I was just numb. I pulled out my phone and ordered an Uber, and less than five minutes later it was there. I stood up and walked over in a trance, climbing inside the backseat.

The sound of the door shutting shook me awake, and as we pulled away I started to cry. Great, wracking, sobs shook free from my chest. Dear God, what had I done? My driver was an older man with a grey beard, but he looked up kindly and passed back a box of tissues. I managed to mumble out a thank you, blowing my nose as he drove.

I thought about what Taylor had told me about her last girlfriend. How instead of coming out, she'd broken up with her and moved back with her parents. Taylor had been devastated. In her heart, Taylor was a trusting soul, who saw so much beauty in this miserable world. But she'd been failed. Failed by her family, her past loves, and now by me.

She'd opened up to me so much over the past two months. We'd explored new parts of ourselves. Her art had even changed. Even my untrained eye could see it. She'd risked her own life to rescue my sister from the ocean, and risked her damaged heart on a silly college girl who wasn't even brave enough to acknowledge the truth to her family.

With every thought my shame grew deeper and more soul wrenching. By the time my driver dropped me off at Taylor's place I'd cried myself out. I could just get in my car and go. Drive away and never stop. I shook the thought out of my head. No. No compounding this with more bad decisions. If I'd really just destroyed the only real relationship I'd ever had, I needed to take it like an adult.

I walked up the stairs, pulling my key out and unlocking the door. My key, that Taylor had given me because she trusted me. That brought a fresh wave of tears. I walked back to the bed and crawled up on the mattress, laying my head on my pillow. I looked at Taylor's side of the bed. So many nights here, my lover holding me close. I let the grief wash and shame wash over me and I cried myself to sleep.

It wasn't restful, and I was immediately pulled into horrible dreams, which woke me in a cold sweat. It was just after ten, darkness had fallen fully outside. The fair had been over for the day hours ago, but Taylor hadn't come home. Or maybe she had seen my car and left.

Whatever the case, she clearly didn't want to be where I was. And this was her apartment. I had no right to be here. I should go.

I took half an hour to pack up my stuff, zipping closed my little carry-on sized suitcase I'd brought over for the week. I was going to leave a note with my key, telling her how sorry I was, so I set my bag by the couch and went to find some paper and a pen.

God, how do you start something like this?

Taylor

I am so sorry for what happened today. You deserve so much better. I never wanted to hurt you, and I told myself I never would. I love you. I always will, but if this is over I understand. That's not what I want, but if it is, know that you taught me more about myself and who and what I want in life in two months than I'd learned in twenty-one years. You'll always be my hero.

Love, Aly

Tears were rolling down my face as I signed my name. Several landed on the paper itself. I wondered if she'd recognize what the marks were from. I set my key on the note like a paperweight and looked around. I picked up one of the throw cushions and hugged it to my chest. I needed to get up and go. But when I did it would be over, really over, so I decided to just sit here a minute. Just one more minute, here in this place where I'd been so happy. Just one more minute, then I'll go.

*******

Thanks for reading, rating and commenting. I know the D/s aspect of this story isn't everyone's cup of tea. I didn't actually set out to write a D/s story, if you can believe that. Aly just kept surprising me with how submissive she was, and how that submission made her stronger, not weaker. I'll understand anyone who doesn't want to continue. But for anyone who does feel that way I just want to let you know that neither of the stories I'm working on now have any BDSM sides at all, so don't give up on me.