“My mum came in and asked about the marks on my neck and my lip. I couldn't answer her, and she never asked again. Never mentioned it. She acted like nothing had happened. We had a week off school at that point, and by the end of that week, I had focused back on my piano and tried to shut it all out. I had no one and nowhere to go with it, so I shut it down. Locked it away.”
"Isabelle..." My voice is rough with emotion as I feel my eyes fill. My entire soul hurts with the agony she must have endured.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
"No, James, please. I need to get this out. I went away to university and ended up working at Plush, a kink club. I met my friend Victoria there, and I hadn’t even entertained another relationship after that. Seeing people put so much trust into each other is mind-blowing. How can they do that? I learnt so much there, not just about being a Domme, but about trust, communication, respecting boundaries, honesty… It is being a Domme that helps me. I am in control. I call the shots. No one will ever hurt me again like he did."
She goes quiet for a beat. She moves out from my hold and sits on the edge of the bed, her back to me.
"James, I’m scared because I know that's what you want to do to me. I know there will be times you want to be in charge, and I’m scared I can’t give that to you, and you won’t want me…" Her voice trails off, her shoulders shuddering with silent sobs, and she stands and picks up her bag.
"Isabelle, I’ll never do anything you don’t want. I don’t ever want to hurt you," I urge, moving off the bed to kneel in front of her. Looking up at her face, her cheeks streaked with tears, I take her hands in mine and move closer to look into her eyes, clouded with anguish, mirroring my own feelings perfectly.
She is mine. I need her, want her in my life, and I will do anything—give up anything—for her.
Yes, Miss
"Isabelle, you are a fucking queen. In every respect. Your intelligence, compassion, and lust for life are astounding. Your grit, determination, and bravery in the face of challenges and trauma are a testament to you and your strength. I wouldn’t want to kneel anywhere in the world but at your feet, as your king. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but your court." My voice cracks, emotion finally taking over me. She really doesn’t see herself as I do, and that is like a knife to the chest.
Isabelle stands from the bed, pulls on some leggings and takes several stiff steps to the bedroom door, each one like a stab to my already shattered heart. She turns to look at me, her overnight bag over her shoulder, as I stay kneeling on the floor, the light from the hallway casting her into silhouette as she turns and walks away.
"Goodnight, James. I’ll see you Monday morning." She walks out of the house, closing the door softly behind her.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Chapter 32
Isabelle
I crawl into bed once I’m home, feeling numb and empty. Seeing James’ devastation as I left almost broke me. I couldn’t stay. I needed to get out of there. After telling James everything, I needed space. I needed everything to be quiet again.
My head feels noisy with everything we talked about, yet simultaneously empty and devoid of anything I can actually think about. No single thought can be pinned down and thought through.
I’m exhausted. I’ve sobbed for the first time in years, and there’s nothing left inside of me to pour out. My phone buzzes against the hardwood of the bedside table. James has messaged me multiple times, begging to talk, but I have nothing more to give tonight.
I reach over and turn my phone off, huddling into my blankets, feeling like my eighteen-year-old self once more, broken and numb.
Yes, Miss
I wake to the sun streaming through my curtains and an incessant ringing sound coming from my downstairs phone. I roll over and bury my head in my pillows. The ringing stops, and I fall back to sleep for what feels like a few minutes, until a pounding at the door wakes me. My puffy eyes struggle to open again against the morning light. Kicking my blankets back, I sigh, wishing everyone would just leave me the fuck alone.
I drag my sorry ass out of bed to the window, hoping it isn’t James. My joints feel stiff, and I don’t have the energy in me to talk this morning. I open the curtains and look down to see my nosy old neighbour banging at my door.
Bloody Edith.
Cigarette in hand, her oversized glasses perched on her nose, and a face that looks like a bulldog chewing a wasp.
"Answer your phone, young lady! The constant ringing is disturbing my stories!" she yells, banging on the door once more. This woman is going too far. She irritates the hell out of me and treats me like a child. "Did you hear me?" she yells again. Neighbours from a couple of doors down come out to see what the commotion is.
Oh, great, a bloody audience.
I shove the window open and glare down. "What the fuck, Edith?" I yell. It’s still early-ish for me on the weekend. It’s nine am, and the road is quiet.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
"I beg your pardon?" she yells back, a look of disdain marring her wrinkled features. "How dare you talk to one of your elders like that, young lady! Your phone has been ringing non-stop, and I can't hear my stories! Your generation has no respect for neighbours and their peace and quiet!"
"Well, I’m not the one banging on doors and disturbing the street! So, if you don’t mind, kindly fuck off and mind your own fucking business, you nosy bitch!" I yell and slam the window, Edith’s face a picture of shock as one of the neighbours laughs loudly and goes back inside, realising the show is over.
