I wait another minute or so, while she tries hard not to ride my knee, then I jump up and stand next to the bed. “Not this time, greedy girl. You haven’t earned my cock in your tight ass yet. But don’t worry… I’m sure you will.” She blows out a sigh of frustration. “Now… let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I’m just saying, you were a natural,” Raegan laughs, curling her body further into my body. She’s nestled into me on the left and Demi is on the right. We’re all still in bed, just… existing–together.
“Do you get it now?” Raegan asks, her tone turned serious, but she’s still calm.
I know what she’s asking. I didn’t think her idea would work, but I can’t deny the mood is lighter. She’s not wrong about me treating her with kid gloves, but I’m not sure I can erase my fear of hurting her in one afternoon.
Demi shifts in my arms. “I’m going to shower and give you two some time to talk.”
I squeeze her hand a couple times with mine as she stands until she eventually pulls it away and disappears behind the bathroom door. My eyes focus in her direction until the waterfall shower starts up and my heart thuds heavily in my chest. I love that girl so fucking much it kind of hurts.
My gaze drops back down to my angel. How is it possible to love two women like this? It’s a question I don’t really need an answer to, but I can’t help wondering how this has become my life.
“It’s so complicated, Raegan.” I tell her. “I wish I could be fixed but I don’t think it’s possible to heal the damage my father did so quickly. It’s going to take some time.”
“Oh, I’m under no illusion that you were going to be magically fearless after all that. Can I be honest with you about something?”
I answer with a tight nod.
“First, let me ask you this. When was the last time you saw your father?”
Every muscle I have begins to tense and my pulse pounds in my throat at her question. “Please don’t psychoanalyze me. I’ve had a lot of therapy in my life. I just need you to be my partner, not my therapist.” Her brows furrow at my accusatory tone and I instantly feel like shit about it. “I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean that like it came out.”
“Look, Hayes.” She meets my tone with a firm one of her own. “I’m not stupid. I know it’s going to take time. All I really needed you to see–by doing what we did–was that we’re all in this… together. And maybe also that it doesn’t fucking matter how your wrists are tied. Well, it does, but you had ways to notify me if you were hurt or needed to stop–”
“Wait a minute. We didn’t even have safewords back then.”
She raises a hand and shoves her palm in my face. “Excuse you. I wasn’t finished.”
I’m an asshole. “Go on.”
“We may not have had safewords back then, but the safeword probably wouldn’t have changed the injury itself. It probably would have made you aware I was hurt sooner, but shit happens.” She’s sitting back on her knees now, her hands in her lap while she rubs her left wrist with her other hand. “You could have broken your wrist tonight, too. But you fucking didn’t. What happened, could have happened to anyone. It’snotyour fucking fault.”
I notice the tears just a little too late. They fall like rivers down her pinkened cheeks.
“It felt like my fault back then.”
“I know. But don’t you see? I never blamed you.” She sniffles and shifts her gaze away from me. “I blamed you for leaving me, but not for the accident.”
Her chest heaves as she works to stabilize her breathing, but her tears do her dirty and keep flowing with increasing speed… and quantity.
“Come here, Angel.” Needing to hold her, I pull her body back into my chest and begin making soft circles with my hand at the small of her back. I place a gentle kiss on top of her head. “Thank you for trying. For what it’s worth, I do feel better after it all. I just need some time.”
I honestly believe having Demi and Raegan with me will only help me get there sooner than I ever would have on my own.
“I think you should talk to your dad. In my very non-professional, very ‘just a relationship’opinion, I feel like it’s the only way you’ll ever really get closure so you can move on with your life and finally be happy… free from whatever hold he still has on you.”
The thought of seeing my father makes my stomach turn violently until it twists into knots. I never answered her question, but it’s been about six years since I’ve seen him. He ended up in the emergency room after a bad alcoholbinge and I was somehow still his emergency contact. He had a fucking stroke and I had no choice but to spend my own hard-earned money on the asshole to put him in a home. I'm still paying his outrageous room and board bill, damn near vomiting every time I cut the check. I don’t want to promise her something I’m not sure I can deliver. Instead, I kiss her head again and quietly tell her, “I’ll think about it.”
45
Raegan
It’s been a couple weeks since our little role reversal and things have been better, to say the least. We’ve managed to stay in somewhat of a love bubble, though, enjoying our time and getting to know each other again, both one on one and as a trio. It’s been… blissful.
Demetria has been more present and vocal, although she’s not fully there, despite my insistence that Hayes and I really don’t have that much more time together seeing as we only dated for about six weeks and were only married for a month before things went to shit. We’ve both assured her we’re all essentially on an even playing field, but she still doesn’t quite believe it.
Hayes has taken off his kid gloves with me–for the time being–and seems to have gotten the message I was trying so hard to deliver when I put him on his knees. My lips curve into a bemused smile at the memory. Even though I'm not sure I’d be inclined to do it again anytime soon, the highlight reel is definitely on repeat in my brain daily. Then there’s the matter of his father. He still has yet to say–one way or another–whether he’s going to see him or not. Maybe it’s too much to ask of him and he’s better offnotdoing it. This is the exact reason why therapists aren’t supposed to treat someone they know. Judgment is clouded.
