I blow out a breath. “How will you be sure? How much longer will this be?”
“Will what be?”
I gesture around the room. “Staying hidden like this. I feel some days like the walls are closing in on me.”
He gives me a long look.
“As long as it takes.”
I sigh impatiently and clench my jaw. I’m not surprised when he walks over to me and makes me look at him by taking my chin in his hand. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t want to hide anymore, Thayer. I miss going outside. I miss being able to do things like shop, and go to class, and grab some pastry at a bakery. I miss socializing and parties and all the things I used to do.”
I don’t know how to tell him that I fear I’m not enough for him. Will I ever be enough, or am I just a passing fling to him? I still can’t help but wonder if he needs someone like one of those stunningly beautiful submissives, or one of the willing servants.
A part of me wonders what he does when he’s not with me.
“Savannah.”
“I don’t like being here, all alone,” I tell him. “I don’t…” I look away from him then, because I suddenly don’t feel good. I feel like I’m going to cry, and I hate that. I don’t like feeling like my emotions are getting the best of me. I shake my head. “I don’t wanna talk right now.”
I wonder if he’s going to make me talk because he doesn’t allow me to hold anything back from him. I believe that good communication skills are essential in any working relationship, but I wonder if sometimes he needs to respect my privacy.
“Are you okay?”
I look away.
“I have a little bit of a headache. Probably just getting my period.”
Frowning, he takes his phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling a doctor.”
And that’s Thayer. He is the most overprotective human I’ve ever met in my life. An utter perfectionist, he dots everyiand crosses everytand leaves no room whatsoever for error.
He’s not calling the doctor for aheadache.
“I don’t need to see a doctor. It’s just a headache. I get them sometimes.”
He gives me a sharp look. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
I shrug. “Why would I randomly tell you I sometimes get headaches when I’ve been reading too much or staring at my computer screen all day long?”
But then he gives me one of those looks,one I know all too well tells me he is not arguing the point. I roll my eyes and cave. “Fine. Call the doctor, who is probably just going to give me some pain meds and tell me to make sure I’m hydrated.” I turn away from him because if he sees me rolling my eyes again, I’m going to land over his knee. And I’m not feeling it.
“Are you well hydrated?”
I speak through gritted teeth.“Yes.”
A few minutes later, the doctor arrives. She’s a slight woman in her late fifties or so, with a smattering of gray in her head of curls. We go through every routine question from my sexual history to when was the last time I got my period.
WhendidI last get my period. I have an odd sense of time since coming here.
“It’s aheadache.” Dear God, overreact much?
Thayer hovers in the background, and I can’t help but think. If I’m pregnant… My God, if I’m pregnant, he’s going to lock me up in a cave somewhere and throw away the key.
Would it be too early to tell?
Suddenly, I don’t want him to know and I’m not sure why. I need to find out this news alone.
