“It’s exactly what you deserve, my darling,” he corrected. “You have been out of control, swearing, overindulging your preference for wine, and generally being a pain in the butt. It’s fitting and perfectly acceptable considering the sort of marriage we have, and will continue to have for the rest of our lives together, however long that might be. If your assumption is that because our time together may be limited, you can get away with whatever behavior you choose, you’re highly mistaken. You are my wife. I am your husband, and you will act accordingly or pay the price.”
“Realistically, this could be our last night together, our last moments,” she cried out. “Is this really the way you want to spend them?”
“Actually, it is,” he answered. “If we are to be parted, if you are to have any memory of me at all, I would like it to be that I loved you enough to correct you when you are wrong. I want you to recall that you are the most important person in the world to me, and I will always put your well-being and safety above all else, even if that means spanking some sense into you.”
Cara stiffened over his lap and then collapsed. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed uncontrollably. The rest of her spanking she took without fighting. When it was over, he held her for a long time, soothing her. They made love until the wee hours of the morning. For that night, Cara slept.
It was also on that night Witt determined he would use that method again if he had to, but she would travel back to 1880 over his dead body. When he woke around noon the next day, Cara was gone. Panicked, he jumped out of bed and raced from the room only to skid to a stop when he saw her in the kitchen. Barefoot and wearing one of his shirts, she was making breakfast.
“Good morning, darling,” she said with a smile. “I’m making omelets. Do you want two eggs or three?”
“Three,” he answered, trying to slow his heart rate. “I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” she replied, cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them.
Witt sat at the island and watched as she chopped up onions, peppers, and ham. She seemed to be in a good mood, and he honestly had to wonder whether that was a good sign or not.
“Cara, about last night,” he began.
She smiled.
“Are you going to apologize for spanking me?” she asked.
“Certainly not,” was his surprised response. “You deserved that and more.”
“You’re right, I did. I’m sorry I’ve been so intense lately. I guess the stress is getting to me. I’ll try to do better, darling,” she promised.
She looked sincere. She sounded sincere. He kept quiet as she made his omelet and slid it onto a plate, handing it to him. Cara passed him a glass of orange juice, a napkin and some utensils. He took a bite.
“Delicious.”
“Thanks, I try, even though you’re clearly a better cook than I am.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, my love. You’re improving all the time. Are you well this morning?” he finally asked after taking several bites.
“Are you asking if I’m bruised?”
“Yes, I guess I am.”
“Well, I’m not wearing panties if that tells you anything. Hence the shirt,” she admitted, waving a hand at her body. “Would you like to look?”
“I would.”
Coming around the island, Care bent over and pulled up the back of his shirt. Her cheeks were still red and a bit puffy, but there didn’t appear to be any bruising.
“Satisfied?” she asked, looking over her shoulder before straightening up and going back to making her breakfast.
“Perfectly,” Witt replied. “I take it you’re not going to sit with me.”
“I prefer to stand.”
“Understandable. I’m glad I made an impression on you, dear heart. I don’t want to have to worry that you’re going to do something foolish. I’m counting on that.”
Cara nodded.
“Somehow, the look on your face is not very reassuring,” Witt said, watching her closely.
She got busy, but did not reply.
