Paris Promise: Paris Trilogy: Part Three

by Lila Dubois

  “I know he loves me.”

  “But love isn’t always enough?” Nerio asked with a sad smile.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Then make this about something else. Make this about future Vivienne. Future Solomon.”

  She swallowed hard. “I will try.”

  “Have your say, then let him have his. If it starts to go awry, call me. We can turn this into a scene, where you have no choice but to be honest with one another.”

  “And if it comes to that? If we prove we can’t communicate without the power exchange?”

  Nerio glanced at her sadly. “Then I think you have your answer.”

  Vivienne waited until she heard the double doors close behind the other man before looking at Solomon.

  She forced herself to hold his gaze, seeing anger and confusion there but also a hint of betrayal paired unexpectedly with a bit of hope.

  Hope.

  She hadn’t felt any when she’d run out of the aftercare room. She’d been angry and felt small and stupid. Then she’d talked to Nerio. He’d asked her about Solomon, about why Solomon in particular would use those words or phrases. In doing so, she started to dissect what he’d really said, and she’d heard meaning hidden behind the clumsy, painful words.

  Vivienne walked until she was just inside the perimeter of the brighter light. She’d rooted through Nerio’s selection of clothing, finally finding beach gear amid all the fet wear. She’d opted for a retro-style bikini with high-waisted bottoms and a full-coverage underwire top, under a black caftan-style coverup. The coverup was sheer in bright light, but she was hoping that in the dimmed dungeon lights, it wouldn’t be too transparent.

  Now that she was here, she was tempted to go off-script. To simply start talking. That would be easier, because if she did that she would say surface level things. Things that didn’t really matter.

  Vivienne closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts. She wouldn’t take the easy way out, wouldn’t be a coward.

  “I’m sorry, Solomon. I’m sorry for lashing out at you. Both today, and years ago, when I slapped you so hard I cut your face. You’d hurt me, and so I hurt you. I had no right, and I’m so very sorry.”

  Solomon’s stiff posture softened, and he mumbled into the gag. His eyes darkened with frustration.

  “Nerio was telling the truth. I asked him to get you here, and make it so you couldn’t interrupt, and couldn't walk away. I know I’ve accused you of always being the one to leave, but today I left. I left because each word you said was like a knife in my heart.”

  Again he mumbled, shaking his head vehemently.

  “Nerio asked me about you, about why you might have said the things you did, and I realized, and should have realized at the time, what you were doing.” She smiled though she knew it trembled. “You were trying to give me what I needed, to find a way to take care of me, even if it meant giving up your house, your island, weren’t you?”

  He nodded, looking relieved that she understood.

  “But what I heard was that I wasn’t worthy of anything more.” This was the hard part, the idea that she been struggling with in the hours since she’d left him. “You said you’d come to Paris, to live there, and be with me whenever I was able.”

  Another nod, and he was watching her carefully.

  “But what you described sounded so… sad. For both of us.” She swiped at her cheek, hating that she was crying, but her voice remained steady. “You said you love me, and more than that you need me, but how can that be true if you also accept that you’d only spend a handful of days with me?”

  Solomon started to speak, but the muzzle prevented any legible sound. With a grunt of frustration she could hear, he yanked at the chains.

  Vivienne took a step forward. “I know exactly how frustrating it is to not be able to reply.” She arched a brow. “I know because you just did it to me.”

  Solomon relaxed then had the grace to look chagrined.

  Vivienne paused, needing a moment to gather herself before she continued. She grabbed a straight back chair, and brought it over, perching on the seat, heels braced on the cross bar, elbows on her knees.

  “I spent hours thinking about what you said, and why it made me so angry. Finally I realized something.” She took a deep breath and looked up. “I was angry, because I was depending on you to make what we had a relationship.” She curled and uncurled her fingers, unable to maintain her calm composure. “If you give up, if you accepted some truncated affair, something less than a real romantic or even a proper Master and submissive relationship, then there was no hope for us.”

  She had to pause for a moment and swallow against the tears. She was looking at her hands, not at Solomon. The only sound coming from him was the noise of his breathing through his nose.

  “If you gave up on us, then all hope was lost.” Again she wiped tears from her cheeks. “When I thought you were punishing me by leaving me on the spanking bench, I realized I wouldn’t survive having you break my heart again. It took everything I had to walk away that morning. I almost changed my mind a thousand times. I sat in the shower and cried and cried.”

  Solomon made a pained noise and she looked up. His eyes were bright, and he raised one hand beckoning her to come to him.

  She shook her head. “No, I have to do this on my own, because you see I’m weak. I’m weak and I expected you—both before and now—to be strong for both of us. You said at the end you were taking care of me. That you were my therapist. You weren’t wrong, as hard as that was to hear.

  “You said I let my family bully me, and you were right. I was weak. I didn’t stand up to them. I was trying so hard to please them, that I neglected you.” She raised her head, meeting his gaze. “I neglected us. You left because of that, because I wasn’t willing to do what was needed to make our relationship work. I needed you, relied on you, but it wasn’t fair of me to expect so much, and give nothing in return.

  “I don’t blame you for walking away. I did, for a long time, but now I don’t.”

  Again Solomon motioned for her to come closer.

  Vivienne’s lips twitched. “Even without words you’re pretty good at giving commands.”

  Solomon narrowed his eyes, crooked his finger, and then pointed at the floor. The submissive part of her wanted to kneel at his feet.

  “That would be easier than saying the rest of what I need to say.”

  Solomon’s hand dropped to his side.

  “You walked away because you expected me to be a partner in our relationship, and I wasn’t. At the club in Paris you suggested we might try a purely D/s relationship, but I left a scene for a fake emergency, and even after it was clear there was no immediate threat, I didn’t come back to you. I didn’t let you take care of me, as was your right. I wasn’t a good submissive. I didn’t hold up my side of that relationship either.”

  It was painful to admit her own failings, but sitting on the ship balcony, with nothing but the sun, water, and her own thoughts for company, Vivienne had realized a few hard truths.

  “I think, if I hadn’t been made CEO, we would have been fine. I let my family come between us, because I—”

  She stopped. This wasn’t part of her planned speech, but she suddenly knew how to finish that sentence. She popped up from the chair, pacing back and forth as thoughts and feelings shifted and slotted together, letting her understand something about herself for the first time.

  “I sacrificed you, our relationship, my own life plans, because…I wanted to fit in.”

  Solomon’s brows rose up his forehead.

  “I…I never felt like I was one of them. I was an outsider. I thought I was okay with that, but then there was a chance for me to be a part of my families, an important part. For me to save them.”

  Stunned by the realization, she dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor. Solomon got to his knees, peering anxiously at her.

  “I don’t know why it mattered. I had you. We were a family.” She looked
at Solomon, who couldn’t respond with words; however the soft look of understanding and acceptance in his eyes was all she needed. Vivienne let out a sad little laugh and hugged herself. The moment passed, and she realized there was still more she had to say.

  Gathering herself, she pulled her legs under her, until they were both kneeling.

  “Twice, I was a bad partner.”

  Solomon shook his head, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not accepting all the blame. You can certainly be an asshole.”

  Solomon nodded, and his eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile.

  “Earlier, when you said you’d move to Paris for the chance to maybe see me on the weekends, when you accepted so much less than you should have…I realized you’d given up on me. Accepted that I couldn’t be better. And that broke my heart. It made me so scared that I got angry.”

  Solomon stared at her, then slowly motioned her to come to him with both hands. It wasn’t a command, but a soft offering of comfort. One she couldn’t turn down, not now when she felt like she was going to break apart. Gathering the long skirt of the caftan, she held it in one fist and crawled to him. The moment she was close enough, Solomon gathered her against his chest. The chains were too short to allow him to wrap his arms around her, but he stroked her back and laid his cheek on her head.

  “I need you to want me more than that. I need you to think I’m worth more. I need you to expect more from me. I’m already weak, and if you give up on me…”

  Solomon mumbled something. Needing to hear his voice, and knowing the time for this to be a one-sided conversation was done, she reached up and unbuckled the gag. It fell away from his face and the first thing he did was kiss her—gentle, lingering kisses to her forehead, each eyelid, her cheeks, and finally her mouth. He kissed away her tears, murmuring softly as he did. Finally, he pulled back, cupping her face in one hand, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “You were never weak. I never thought you were weak. You’re the strong one.”

  “I’m not, I’m—”

  “You’re strong, Vivi. You’re the strongest person I know. That’s why they came to you. That’s why when the whole fucking thing was about to fall apart, your family expected you to save them. Because you’re strong. So strong that you gave them everything, and then gave them more. You took care of everyone but yourself.”

  “I didn’t take care of you.”

  “And if I’d been more mature, less frustrated by everything, I would have handled it better. I would have known how to talk to you.” His gaze was tender as his fingers moved over her cheek. “We were young, and we broke before we bent.”

  “You really think I was strong.”

  “I think you are incredibly strong. You were then, and you are now.”

  “Don’t give up on me,” she pleaded.

  “I won’t, baby, I won’t.” His shoulders slumped. “I owe you an apology, because I fucked up earlier. I thought I knew what to say, but it went wrong. What I should have said was that you’re my soulmate.”

  “Soulmate?” she whispered.

  “As corny as that sounds, yeah. I sat up that night, after you fell asleep in my bed and I felt…peace. I felt at home, for the first time in a long time. You’re my home, Vivi, that’s why I’m willing to have you however I can.”

  “No, please, don’t let me do that to you.”

  His head tipped to the side, and he smiled that crooked smile. “What if I said I needed you to take care of me?”

  She made a pained noise. “I didn’t, before. I didn’t take care of you. I used you.”

  “But I don’t think you will this time. I think this time we’ll take care of each other. That is, if you’re willing to try.”

  “I don’t know how to change the way things are now, but I know that more than anything, what I want to do is go back to your island and never leave. Just disappear with you.”

  “We have enough money that if we want to, we could do that.”

  For a moment she was tempted, but she shook her head. “We can’t. Neither of us. It would hurt too many people. If we’re happy, but others suffer, is it worth it?”

  “Honestly, fuck other people, but I see your point.”

  Vivienne rested her head against his chest as she laughed.

  “This is what we’re going to do,” Solomon declared. “You’re going to let me loose. Then I’m going to fuck you, right here on the floor.”

  “I thought you were going to say something about our future. Nerio told me to think about future Vivienne, and future Solomon.”

  “I was going in chronological order. Nerio is, for all that he’s a complete lunatic, smart. In ten years, twenty years, I want you by my side. You’re home for me.”

  “Home. That’s just right.” Vivienne cupped his beloved face. “You are my home too.”

  Solomon smiled, his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  “We’re going to figure this out. I promise you that. I’m not going to give up on us, which means I’m not going to settle. You’re going to be my sub, my wife.”

  “You’d marry me, even after what happened the last time you gave me a ring?” She touched his scar.

  “How do you feel about a nice necklace?”

  Vivienne laughed, and once she started she couldn’t stop. Amidst her chuckles she unlatched one cuff, then sat back. Solomon freed himself, then pounced on her, bearing her back onto the floor. He stripped off her clothes, kissing every inch of her skin as he whispered words that healed wounds in her soul.

  I love you.

  I’ll never give up on you.

  You’re home to me.

  And when he came into her, sliding deep when she was wet and aching, for the first time in years, she was looking forward to the future.

  Chapter 10

  Paris—four days later

  * * *

  “You’re not angry with us?” Edmund asked, walking towards Vivienne with outstretched arms.

  “Not at all.” Vivienne pulled away from Solomon, stepping into her cousin’s embrace and kissing his cheeks.

  “You brought him with you?” Victor asked, eyeing Solomon.

  “Yes, of course.” Vivienne forced Victor to look away by embracing him.

  Victor and Solomon shook hands, while Edmund and Solomon embraced. With the greetings done, they allowed the hostess to lead them to a small table in Salon d’Été at the Ritz Paris, where Solomon had managed to secure them a reservation for brunch.

  Once they’d ordered coffee and a bottle of sparkling wine, Edmund leaned forward. “I’m so sorry, about how you ended up on the yacht. When you told us that you’d been kidnapped...”

  “It was rather alarming at the time,” Vivienne said. “But it was what we needed.”

  “Kidnapping is kind of our thing now,” Solomon said. “Your cousin actually had me kidnapped again, a second time, while we were on the ship.”

  Vivienne hid her smile and gently kicked Solomon under the table. He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together.

  Victor stared back and forth between them. “As long as I don’t somehow end up the villain of the story.”

  “I promise you won’t,” Vivienne assured her cousin. After their first break up, Gerard had started the rumor that Victor had wounded Solomon while defending Vivienne. Vivienne had done her best to counteract the rumors, but her protests had the opposite effect, and Victor had earned a reputation as dangerously violent.

  Edmund was looking back and forth between them. “Are you two together now?”

  Vivienne considered her cousin. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “What I wanted was for you to be happy. And I didn’t think you could do that as long as there was so much unfinished between you.” Edmund smiled slightly. “And I knew you still loved him.”

  “I did,” Vivienne said, unashamed. “But love wasn’t enough.” She glanced at Solomon. “We figured it out. We know who
we are, what we need.”

  Unexpectedly, Victor grunted. “Good for you. You two were always good together.” The rest of the table looked at him in surprise, but Victor just shrugged.

  The server returned with a silver coffee carafe and an icy bottle of sparkling wine. The popping sound of the cork always made her think of celebrations. Vivienne glanced at Solomon. Today was a celebration, or at least it would be if everything went according to plan.

  “A toast,” Solomon said, raising his glass.

  “To love.” Edmund lifted his flute.

  “No,” Solomon corrected. “To home.”

  Victor and Edmund shared a bewildered look, but when Vivienne teared up as she raised her own glass, the brothers dutifully said, “Santé.”

  They drank champagne and waited for their first course. Victor asked Solomon about the logistics of owning his own island, Edmund demanded an invitation to visit, and Vivienne sat back, listening to these three people who were all so important to her, enjoy a morning in one another’s company.

  As the meal came to a close, Vivienne cleared her throat. “There are things, business things, I want to talk to you about.”

  Edmund seemed to slump, but wasn’t surprised. “Of course, of course. Anything you need.” He looked at his brother, then back to her. “You’ve done more than enough.” From his tone, it was clear Edmund had some idea of what she needed to change.

  “We will handle Mother and Father,” Victor added, proving he too could read between the lines. “Whatever you need, we will deal with them. Before we would not have been able, but now…” He shrugged.

  “None of us are the same people we were six years ago,” Solomon said.

  “No, we are not,” Vivienne agreed, and after five days of Solomon telling her she was strong and beautiful and worthy of love, she had no hesitations about making some changes in her life. He was right, she was strong, and that’s why they’d come to her. She’d been strong for everyone but herself, made everything but her relationship a priority.