by Sienna Parks
I grip her hand, horrified and heartbroken by her admission.
“Two weeks after you left Paris, I went on stage like any other night. I thought the painkillers were working; I leapt into the air, and when I landed on my ankle, the impact…” she struggles to say the words, “it ended my career.”
“Vittoria…”
“I had surgery to repair the damage, but the best they could do was to make sure I don’t walk with a limp. The doctor said if I continue to dance, I’ll be in a wheelchair within a year.”
I can’t believe she’s been dealing with this on her own. Her life crashing down around her, and she’s been shouldering the burden by herself all this time.
“I was in the hospital physio facility for weeks after the operation, until I could walk well enough to look after myself. The ballet company had already left for the next city, and I was so lost, Logan. I was in denial. I didn’t want to face up to what was happening to me. The longer it went on, the harder it became for me to tell you. The pain was crushing me, and to say it out loud… I just couldn’t.” She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand, her eyes bloodshot and swollen. “The pain in my ankle was excruciating, and I kept taking the pain meds, more often than I was supposed to. It got to the point where I couldn’t leave my hotel room, I didn’t want to face going back to New York and explaining to everyone that my lifelong dream has been burned to ash. In the end, I couldn’t bear to hear your voice.”
Her words cut me like a blade.
“It was too painful. I love you so much, and I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to tell you. I felt like there was no way out, no way to get back to the life I had, the life we shared together. I took too many tablets. I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t trying to kill myself, Logan. It was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”
I want to believe her. I want to believe her so badly. “Are you telling me the truth? I need to know. If you tried to end your life, I need to know.”
She can’t look me in the eye when she answers, “I’m telling the truth.” And there’s my answer. She’s still lying to me. I hang my head, floundering in the dark, not knowing what to do or say for the best, and then Campbell’s words replay in my head. Sometimes you need to do what’s best for someone, even if they hate you for it.
“You’re lying to me. You’ve been lying to me for months. I want to be with you, Vittoria, but if you refuse to be honest with me, to be honest with yourself, then we need to end this now.” It seems like a heartless thing to say, but I’m clinging to the hope that her love for me is strong enough to force her to face up to what’s happened. To what she did.
“I can’t lose you.”
“Then tell me the truth. Did you try to kill yourself?”
“Yes.” That single, solitary word, destroys me; my soul shattering into a million pieces.
“Why?”
“Because without ballet, I’m nothing. I’m worthless.”
“Don’t ever say that to me again. I know you’ve lost something that you love, something that has defined you up until this point in your life, but to say that you are nothing without it, that you’re worthless - is an insult. I love you, Vittoria. More than I have ever loved anyone. Don’t you see? You could never be worthless, when you’re priceless to me. There are so many people who love you, who would have been devastated if you had succeeded in ending your life.” Saying the words make me feel sick to my stomach. I can’t even contemplate a reality in which she didn’t survive.
“How can I make it right?”
“It’s not about making it right. It’s about learning your own worth. Learning to love yourself. Knowing that you are important, that you are loved. I would have been here in a heartbeat, if only you had let me in. You didn’t have to go through this alone. No one should have to deal with what you’ve gone through in the past few months, completely alone. You’re one of the strongest women I know, but everyone, and I mean everyone, including me, has their limits. You may see me as strong, but if I’d lost you, it would have been more than I could bear. I need you. If I haven’t shown you that, then I am truly sorry, and I will spend every day of the rest of my life, making sure you know it, in your heart and in your soul.”
She moves to kiss me, but stops short, almost nervous of my reaction. “I need you, too. I’m so sorry I pushed you away.”
“Promise me you’ll talk to me from now on?”
“I promise.”
I lower my lips to hers, a chaste kiss, filled with all of my love and devotion. “I love you, Vittoria. I love you. I love you.” We stay in each other’s arms, silently clinging to the hope that we can make it through this, together.
After a few hours together, I tell her that Carter is here in Budapest, but that he doesn’t know what happened. She’s angry at first, but I know I did the right thing telling him to come. She’s scared of how he’ll react. How do you tell the brother you look up to, that you idolize, something like this? She’s not strong enough to do it, and if I’m ever going to be worthy of the title ‘Master’ again, then I need to step up and do what needs to be done.
“I’m going to tell him tonight. Then, he can come and see you tomorrow and you can talk.”
“What if he hates me when he finds out?”
“That will never happen. He loves you. He flew halfway around the world to be by your side. You need the love and support of your family. We have a long road ahead of us. You have to get through rehab and…”
She cuts me off. “I’m not going to rehab.”
“It’s not up for debate. The doctor says you need it, and I agree. You need counselling, and a chance at a clean slate. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re a drug addict.” She starts to argue, but I’m not interested in her excuses. “Vittoria, this is a hard limit for me. You have to go to rehab. I’ll take you back to the States, and you can go to a facility in New York where I can visit you every day. I’ve seen firsthand what addiction does to people, and I vowed never to have that in my life. My dad was a dealer. There was a constant stream of junkies on our doorstep, looking for their next fix. I was six years old the first time I saw someone overdose. It was brutal, and sad, and I can’t ever let that happen to you. My dad left when I was eight, and my mom ended up dating half his customers. The only saving grace was that she never started using. Addiction ruins people’s lives. It ruined my childhood, and I won’t sit back and let it ruin your life. You’re going to rehab and that’s the end of it. Do you understand me?”
“Yes. I didn’t know.”
“How could you? I never told you. I’ve never told anyone. I just need you to know that I can’t watch you destroy yourself like this.”
“I’ll go to rehab. I’ll do anything to get my life back, to get back what we have.”
“Good girl. I’ll talk to the doctors and find out when I can take you home. In the meantime, you need to rest, and I need to go and speak to Carter. I’ll bring him by in the morning.” I kiss her forehead. “And, don’t worry. He loves you, almost as much as I do. He just wants to see that you’re okay, and be here for you if you need him.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Tori. He loves you so much. He could never hate you. Now, get some rest, it’s late. I’ll be back first thing.” I have to force myself to walk away, to leave her, when everything inside of me wants to stay by her side, to never let her out of my sight again. But, I need to go and speak to Carter, and I already know that it’s going to be one of the toughest conversations of my life.
“You’re wrong. She would never do that. You must be mistaken.”
He’s distraught, devastated, and completely confused by my revelations.
“I wish I was wrong. I really fucking wish this was all a big mistake, but it’s not. Vittoria tried to kill herself, Carter. She’s been lying to everyone including me for months now.”
I explain to him about her injury, the painkillers, the gradual addiction, and finally, the fall that ended her career. He breaks dow
n, one of the strongest men I know, absolutely crushed, stricken with grief. It’s hard to see him like this, but I’m right there with him, desperate to understand.
“Is she okay?”
“Physically, yes. They got to her in time. She’ll need to go to rehab, which she’s reluctant to do, but she needs it. I’m going to make a few calls tomorrow and arrange a place at a facility in New York for her, so that we can take her home and support her through this.”
“Is that really necessary? Rehab?”
“Yes. It is. She’s an addict. I know you don’t want to hear that, neither did I, but she needs us to help her face it head on, not enable her to bury her head in the sand. If we don’t help her now, we might not be so lucky next time. If housekeeping had gone in an hour later, she… I can’t even say it. She needs to go to rehab, now, and we need to present a united front; show her that we’re here for her in any way she needs.”
He grabs a drink from the mini-bar, downing it in one, before reaching for another. “I’m fucking terrified for her, man. How did it come to this? Why the fuck didn’t you know what was going on with her? She’s your fucking girlfriend.”
“I’m going to let that slide, because you’re in shock and you need to lash out at someone. You’re her brother. She didn’t come to either of us. She was really good at hiding it, and neither of us saw it coming. Believe me when I tell you, you couldn’t hate me any more than I hate myself right now. You’re right, I should have known something was wrong. Don’t you think I’m asking myself that same question? How did I not see it? How could she have fooled me like that, why would she go to such great lengths to lie to me? I didn’t even know what fucking country my girlfriend was in. What kind of a waste of space asshole does that make me?”
“I’m sorry, Logan. I’m so fucking confused. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Vittoria’s always been good at hiding her true feelings. Fake it until you make it has always been her mantra. I know this must be tearing you up. You don’t need me adding to it. I just feel so helpless, like I’ve let her down. I’m her big brother, I’m supposed to protect her from the bad things in life, and I can’t even protect her from herself. It’s fucked up, and I don’t know how to handle it. I’m so fucking angry at her, and at the same time, I just want to hug her and tell her how much I love her.”
“I understand completely. I feel guilty for how angry I am about what she did, but I can’t tell her, and it feels like a poison in my system, infecting everything it touches, rotting my fucking soul. How can I be angry at her when she’s so vulnerable, and so obviously needs my unconditional love?”
“I guess we just suck it the fuck up, and be there for her. And, one day, the anger will subside. We focus on how fucking happy we are that she’s alive, and that we have a second chance to help her.” He stands and walks over to where I’m standing. “I know it took me a while to get on board with you guys dating, but I’m really fucking glad she has you. You’re a good guy; you’re my fucking brother. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have around to help her get through this and find happiness again.”
“Thanks, Carter. That means a lot.”
We sit in silence, staring out at the unfamiliar city; hauntingly beautiful, and yet so tragic. I don’t think either of us will be getting a good night’s sleep, but at 1 a.m., I head back to my own room, agreeing to take him to the hospital first thing to see Vittoria.
I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how the hell I’m going to do this. How I’m going to support her through rehab. How I’m going to piece together the broken shards of our shattered relationship. How we’re ever going to move on from this.
Will I ever trust her again?
Will there come a time when I trust myself, and the decisions I make as a Master?
Can I even call myself a Master, and can she ever really be my submissive?
One Month Later
Every night since I answered the call from Kelen Hospital, I’ve been plagued in the few hours that I actually find sleep, by the same dream; a nightmare that could very well have been my reality. I decide to surprise Vittoria with a visit, and when I get there, I’m the one that finds her in her hotel room. But… I’m too late. She’s gone. Her body cold and lifeless as I cradle her in my arms, screaming my despair to a higher power I don’t believe in, and that’s when I wake up sweating, my heart pounding.
In the waking hours, things are slowly getting better, moving in the right direction, little by little.
We left Budapest three days after I arrived: Vittoria, Carter, and I, together. He was amazing with her when I took him to the hospital, but that’s not a surprise to me. They’ve always been close, and he would do anything for her. It was tough to watch her break down in his arms, to sit idly by and let him comfort her in a way that I’m not capable of right now. She doesn’t have the same faith and trust in me, that she has in her brother. I guess she still sees me as a fleeting presence in her life, rather than a fixture; I’m not family to her, and therein lies the difference. She is my family. She is the only person in my life that I couldn’t do without. Until she feels that way about me, she won’t be able to lean on me the way she needs to.
As soon as we touched down in New York, I took her to her apartment to pick up some clothes, and then I drove her to a rehab facility in the Hamptons. She begged me not to take her, and when we got there, she begged me not to leave her. It was excruciating, but it was a necessary evil. I didn’t want to let her out of my sight, even if it was to help her get better, in a place where I knew she’d be safe.
Carter let me stay at his beach house for the duration of her thirty days in rehab, which allowed me to visit her every day. He and Addi came up on weekends with Verona, which was a great distraction for me, and I know it meant a lot to Vittoria. She wasn’t ready to face her parents at first, but towards the end of her stay, she invited them to visit, and in the end, it was cathartic for everyone. They gave her all the unconditional love and understanding that I knew they would. It was hard to see Mrs. de Rossi after her visit with Tori. She cried for close to an hour, from the moment she stepped out of the glass doors, and the whole car ride back to the beach house, before falling into Carter’s open arms on the porch. Maria de Rossi has been like a mother to me for almost a decade, and more of a mother than mine has ever been. It was heartbreaking to see her so upset, and any words of comfort I could offer, seemed so hollow in the face of what she was coming to terms with.
For me, it’s been a rollercoaster of emotions over the past month. Two steps forward and one step back. Vittoria, being her usual stubborn self, has fought against any attempt on my behalf to act in her best interests. She shuts down whenever I broach the subject of why she kept what was happening from me. I understand better than most what losing the thing you’re most passionate about can do to you. I know that feeling of being completely lost in your own life, when you can’t do the one thing that gave you joy, that gave you an escape; the one thing in life that defined you.
I haven’t told her what happened to me. She needs to focus on herself, and work through her own grief. I hope at some point, that my experiences will give her comfort, and will help us to connect with each other again, but right now, all I’m doing, is hanging on for dear life, refusing to give up on her, on us.
She’s coming home today, and that’s when the real hard work starts. It’s easier to stay clean when you’re in rehab, with round the clock support and understanding. The pressures of real life are left at the door when you sign in, but unfortunately, when you leave, you have to pick them back up, and start dealing with them. She has agreed to come and stay at my apartment, at least for now. She’s not ready to be alone, and I want her with me. I’m hoping that it will become a permanent arrangement, but that’s something to discuss at a later date.
As I lock up the beach house and load up the car, I feel the same feeling in the pit of my stomach that I felt the day I got the call from Budapest. I try to shrug it off,
but the last time I did that, it ended… catastrophically.
“I’ve put your bags in the guest room. Make yourself at home, and I’ll get to work on dinner. Anything you’re in the mood to eat?” She looks confused, as if I’m speaking a foreign language. “Is everything okay? If you’re not hungry just now, I’ll hold off on dinner ‘till later. It’s no big deal.”
“The guest room? I thought I’d be sharing your room; your bed.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. At least, not yet. You’re not ready.”
“You mean you don’t want me anymore.” Her gaze drops to the floor. “I don’t blame you. You didn’t sign up for a suicidal, junkie submissive.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, and don’t ever fucking talk about yourself like that again, do you understand me?”
“Why? It’s what everyone’s thinking.”
I close the distance between us, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Look at me.” Her eyes meet mine, filled with tears. “No one thinks that. Everyone is worried about you. We all love you, and we want to be here for you, if you’ll let us.”
“I don’t want your pity, Logan.” She’s angry; on edge. The pressure of leaving rehab is getting to her, and she’s lashing out at me, but I’ll take whatever she throws at me. I’m in this for the long haul. “If you’re going to look at me like that, then I may as well leave.”
“Look at you like what? Like I give a shit about you? Like I love you? Like you scared the ever-living shit out of me when I was half the world away and couldn’t get to you, and now I’m worried about you?”
She shoves against my chest, trying to push me away. “Like I’m so fragile I might break at any moment.”
“Give me a break. You tried to kill yourself a month ago. ONE MONTH AGO. You barely talk to me, and when you do open up in any way, the next day you treat me like shit. I can’t turn off my feelings and pretend like I don’t care. If I could switch off all the emotions I’ve been feeling lately, I would in a heartbeat, believe me. They’re fucking crushing me! But, I can’t, so I apologize if me looking at you with concern and unconditional love, bothers you, but you’ll just have to suck it up and get used to it, because I’m not going anywhere.”
