Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Now he knows. He knows how broken I am.
“Hungry?” he finally asked in a soft voice.
I nodded. He got up and then reached for the silver bag and put it in a drawer of the bedside table and then he left the room. I sat up and took a few breaths with my eyes closed and a minute later he was back with a bottle of Coke and two glasses. He put them on his bedside table. Then he left and returned a minute later with two plates of food and sets of chopsticks. He passed me a plate and then un-paused the TV and got in bed and leaned back against the pillows, dropping a handful of soy, mustard, and plum sauce packets between us. I looked at my plate. He’d gotten all the dishes I’d requested.
He started to eat so I did, too. I was careful to not look at him, but I felt a tense vibe coming from him. It was angry. Really angry.
“Don’t like the eggrolls?” he asked softly, not angrily.
I was scooping the insides out.
“Uh, I like the shells. I don’t like what they put in them.” I started scooping my fried rice into my emptied shell.
He looked at me like I was an alien, but the mood lightened. This was the only conversation during dinner.
We watched the baseball game and we didn’t talk. When I was finished my food, I grabbed his plate, which was on the bed between us, and took both plates to the kitchen, rinsed them, and then put them in the dishwasher and put the containers of Chinese food that were sitting on the counter into the fridge. When I came back in he was laying down watching the game, his hands behind his head. His eyes moved to me briefly and he had his jaw clenched. I looked to the floor as I made my way the rest of the way to the bed. After climbing on I put my head on his pelvis. He started to play with my hair. I looked up at him. He had a sad look on his face. His eyes met mine and he gave my neck a little squeeze and then his hand rested on my back. His eyes went back to the screen. I turned over to see the TV, keeping my head on him.
When the game was over, I got up and went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. When I returned, he was sitting up, the TV off. He was obviously waiting for me. I’d thought I’d gotten off easy. Guess not.
I climbed into bed beside him and lay on the pillow, looking at him.
“Talk to me,” he said. His expression was such that I knew this wasn’t optional.
I rose to sitting, crossed my legs, and put my hands in my lap. I took a big breath.
“The gift bag triggered an anxiety attack. I’m sorry. It looked just like a bag that had the engagement ring in it when I was proposed to and I told you that my declining the proposal had a pretty big impact on my life and I… I just lost it.”
In truth, I was surprised I’d even been able to tell him about the proposal earlier that day. When it came out without a panic attack, I thought maybe I’d stepped over some hurdle. Clearly, at the sight of that gift bag, I was wrong. Way wrong.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “You have anxiety attacks before Kruna?”
I shook my head. “No.”
He nodded slowly, eyes looking somewhat far away, then he said, “I’m gonna arrange for counseling. I’ll make calls tomorrow.”
I nodded and looked down at my hands in my lap. “Yes, Dare.”
“Don’t,” he snapped.
I looked up at him. He looked furious. Not just pissed off, actually furious.
I was taken aback. “Sorry?”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m your slaver. It’s hot when you do that when we’re having sex but otherwise, when serious shit is being discussed, you don’t fucking do it. You got me?”
I nodded.
“I’m gonna go to the den and do some work.” He got up.
“Dare,” I said softly, my voice showing my pain.
He looked down at me.
“Thank you for saving me.”
The hardness in his eyes evaporated. He got back in the bed and pulled me tight against him and I started to cry into his chest. He stroked my back and kissed my head and then finally said, his voice sounding a little choked. “You’re welcome, Angel. You’re very, very welcome.”
No doubts in my rattled brain; I was in love with this man. There was not a single doubt about it. My Master, my Dario. My C, my D. My all-the-way-to Z. My chest was filled with so much hope it was almost like a living and breathing thing inside me.