Rusty Lovers

by Lilah Nichols

  If she managed to change him he wouldn’t be the old-fashioned honorable gentleman he was. She couldn’t expect him to change and not lose some part of himself.

  Her grip tightened in his hair and pulled his head up. “You have to go, Frank. We can’t be together like this. Not anymore. Not when you’re a married man.”

  “But she and I, we won’t be together really, in the sense of a marriage. It won’t be a sexual thing. I can’t. She can’t…” his voice trailed off hopefully.

  Eliza pushed him away and stood up. “And what kind of a woman would that make me? The kind to step out with another woman’s husband? An adulterer?” God, she hated that word, because given half a chance, she would end up one if she didn’t get Frank out soon. Out of her house, out of her life. She should have known he was too good to be true.

  Frank rose up and wiped the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. “I am so sorry, Eliza. I don’t know what to say. I thought maybe you and I could, you know, have dinner sometime?”

  Tears rolled over her spiky lashes and dripped down her cheeks, eventually falling down to stain her blouse. She tried to blink them away, and she knew she must look a fright as her mascara ran. She had gotten used to the look in the weeks after Jim’s death, but she didn’t want Frank to see her this way. “Just go away, Frank. There’s nothing left of us. Go home.”

  Frank wasn’t budging. He wanted to take her in his arms again, but refrained. “Wait, Eliza, what can I do?”

  “Nothing. Leave.” Her decision was final. Eliza sat back down on the couch and covered her face with her hands. Her voice was muffled as she whispered, “I want Jenny.”

  Frank let himself out and drove home in a daze. After he parked he got out his phone and texted Jenny. “Your mom needs you, right now.”

  Her reply was a single word. “Blocked.”

  Chapter 21

  The days and nights started to drag by. The nights were the worst, lying awake so long that she would finally get up and turn on the television for company. Only weeks before she had been scheming to get the house to herself, and now, she wanted to be alone and yet the solitude just felt depressing.

  Eliza avoided anything that involved leaving her house except work. And even that was by rote, getting up and getting herself off to the office every day, but she mostly stared at the computer screen and played solitaire or Sudoku. Eliza tried to shake herself free of her funk, aware she was neglecting her business even as she sensed Shelly quietly picking up the slack.

  Dealing with bubbly and sometimes spoiled brides now turned out to be harder than she thought. Why did it seem that everyone else was entitled to a happily ever after when she wasn’t?

  She finally convinced herself to remove all the bookmarks that had anything to do with Frank, the little clip of him at the college first and foremost. She removed him from her phone and from her emails. It was hard. Just seeing his name made her want to cry, but she held herself together. She had had many years of practice. Any time the wrong song came on the radio or she thought of something that made her realize what she had lost, the tears started to flow and she had to redirect her mind. Sometimes long moments of not blinking were a way of not giving in to the tears.

  The atmosphere seemed to agree with her. The humidity rose and the water in the air could almost be felt the instant the door opened, but there was only condensation, never any actual rain falling. It was like the sky was trying to hold back its tears in commiseration.

  Initially, Frank had tried to text her and repeat, “I’m sorry” so often that Eliza had her finger on the block button. She needed to do it. She really did, but her heart hurt just thinking about it. It proved impossible to ignore him so she finally texted back. “I need you to stop texting me. I NEED this.”

  July rolled around into August and then August into September, and gradually Eliza exorcised him from her thoughts and her life. The veil of tears pulled back a little. She had more breathing room, and didn’t feel like the wrong song on the radio or the wrong aftershave on the man next to her in line at the grocery store would bring that familiar sting to her eyes.

  Eliza didn’t know what to tell her family, so she said nothing. But no one asked her about it, and she suspected it was Jenny who had handled it for her. She kept her focus on work and bad summertime TV, going to bed early and thankful when she managed to sleep until five. To alleviate some of the tension she joined a gym. Or rather, she started going regularly to the one she already belonged to, for once.

  As one week turned into two, she began to really believe it. He was going to let what they had die because he somehow felt honor bound. The more she thought about it, the more a knot of anger started in her stomach and wouldn’t go away. She convinced Jenny to set up another account for her on Match.com and spent her days swiping through pictures and sending flirts. They all looked nice, and had fantastic profiles, but they were all so predictable. And none of them had the same spark she’d found with Frank. There was no way to tell if any of them had the right chemistry, and oh, God, the word chemistry even had the power to make her cry.

  Appearing normal took more and more effort, and Eliza allowed her children to distract her with movie nights and surprise visits. Her mother was back to offering subtle hints about nice men she’d met at the senior center. The senior center!? Had she gone back to being old? The idea infuriated her.

  She put him out of her mind, repeating the mantra “He’s all right. He’s not dead… “ But he might as well be. Eliza finally felt the need to have a conversation with her mother about it, but couldn’t bring herself to go into the details. She only said, “It’s over. I told him it was over and sent him home. There’s no fixing it.” Thankfully, Jane didn’t press.

  The evenings were the hardest now that Josh was spending more and more time at Lauren’s place. Eliza sat in the big rocker in the living room, distracting herself with mindless television and playing solitaire on her tablet. Out of habit, she swiped over to check her current challenges in Words with Friends. She had purposely deleted the game with Frank, but his name still popped up as a suggestion for a challenge now and then. She wished she were smarter about computer logistics; that she could go in there and delete him from her game history.

  Her finger froze above his name on the list. The little green icon was filled in. He was online. This time Eliza couldn’t stop the tears filling her eyes. Her eyes ached almost immediately as she squeezed them shut. Why did she do this to herself?

  She opened a game. Not to actually challenge him. Just to confirm he was online. Her finger touched the chat box, bringing up the keyboard. “Hi.” She typed. It was dumb to get her hopes up, but within a minute the answer came back.

  “Hi.”

  Her vision started to blur. She blinked furiously, trying to see as she typed, “I miss you.” Part of her wanted to throw the tablet across the room, while the other part waited breathlessly for his reply.

  “I miss you, too.” And a moment later, “I am so lost. I can’t even put it into words.”

  She just sat there and cried. She wanted to type something scorching and angry. Why had she done this? She couldn’t see the letters anymore, and her nose was running. She grabbed a tissue and wiped angrily. “I understand. I hate it, but I understand.”

  “Are you home next Friday? In the evening? I have some things to return. I can arrange the delivery for then.”

  Eliza didn’t know whether to be insulted, angry, or suspicious. “I don’t think you have anything I need.”

  The screen showed him typing for a long time, but finally, the response was only one word. “Please?”

  She knew it was a mistake. That it would get her heart expecting something or her hopes rising, wondering what he was sending. Oh, God. She was insane to consider it. “I’ll try. But I make no promises.”

  She thought about it all week. Tried to tell her stomach not to do backflips thinking about it. She stayed in the back of the house, away from the ves
tibule, but there was nothing she could do to stop her ears from perking up every time a thump sounded outside. And then she’d check for a delivery.

  It was almost seven when a soft tap came at the door. Eliza hurried out, thinking the driver might need a signature. “What the hell could he be sending, anyway?”

  She swung open the door and froze. Not a box on the stoop. Not a delivery man. It was Frank himself. He had his hands jammed into his pockets and his shoulders were slumped forward, like a dog expecting a kick. She almost slammed the door in his face, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He looked haggard, dark circles beneath his eyes, and they glistened with unshed tears.

  Too bad, she thought. This is all his doing. His choice. She started to swing the door shut, but he yanked a hand out and braced his palm on the door. “Please, Eliza, just 5 minutes, please. I know you are home alone.”

  “Why do you say that? Josh may not be home, but he isn’t far away.”

  Frank stared at her, his mouth set in a firm line. “I know because I called him, and begged him to help me catch you alone. So we can talk.”

  Josh was in on this? Her heart stuttered. “Can’t you see how hard it is for me to see you and want what I can’t have?” She thought about closing the door.

  “Please?” Frank asked quietly.

  He stood there on the stoop in his quiet way until she gave in.

  “There’s really nothing to talk about,” she replied, but she swung the door open and stood back, not wanting to have this personal discussion in front of the neighborhood.

  Standing there in the front hallway, where they had been so intimate was hard. Frank swallowed past the lump in his throat and finally got the words out. “I know this is wrong, being here with you. Hurting you more. I know… I know I can’t be what you need. But I think I have finally figured it out, Eliza. Figured out what it was you were talking about when you said ‘There is one more way a slave can show his complete submission.’

  Eliza had to look away. Up at the ceiling, feeling her eyes fill. “No, Frank. There will be no contract. No way for you to still belong to me, when you belong to someone else. There is nothing you could put in a contract that would show you put me first.”

  He was retreating even more into himself, shoving his hands back into his front pockets. “No, at first I thought that was what you meant, but then I remembered. You were specific. You said, ‘a male submissive’ and it got me thinking. About what might be different for a male as opposed to a female. And then it hit me.” His hands moved to his waist and flicked open the button on his slacks. Before Eliza knew it he was undoing the zipper.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Eliza bit out, angry at herself for softening.

  “Look, or give me your hand. You can feel it through my jockeys, I promise.”

  And it was all too much for her. She held out a hand and let trembling fingers caress down his cock, feeling the hard plastic ridges and bars, the small metal lock of a chastity cage. She couldn’t help it, she reached down and palmed him, feeling the whole package, locked down snug and tight. And suddenly he was Rusty again, his eyes bright with passion, his expression belying the arousal she could sense in him.

  He reached up and pulled a long gold chain over his head, showing her the shiny key dangling at the end. He held it out to her. “I am offering you this freely, and asking nothing in return, except that maybe once in a while you might permit me to take it off and find some kind of relief. But I want you to know, there’s nothing for me with anyone but you. I have nothing at home, having it caged won’t be a hardship. Until I walked up to your door there hadn’t been any life in it.”

  Eliza held the chain tight in her fist, pulled up close against her chest. The thought of this was so intriguing. She wanted it so badly, this hope. The hope for the future. For someday. But it wasn’t fair to either of them.

  “I can’t take this, Rusty. I can’t put my life on hold. Sooner or later I might find someone who could be a good match, a good companion. I can’t ask you to wear that showing me obedience and devotion every day. It could be years before Abby needs hospitalization or loses memory of your marriage, and Benny certainly won’t. We have no way of knowing if or when you might actually ever be free.”

  The tears were back in his eyes. “I know. I have no right. All I know is I need to have something for myself. Some little connection with you. And this was the only thing I thought might work. We could try it. For a few weeks, or a few months. You hold the key. I can get away on weekends, to help you rake the leaves or pull weeds or trim hedges, whatever.”

  God help her, she was considering this. “Wouldn’t you just love it, every weekend.” She pulled the chain over her head and felt the key settle into place between her breasts. “We can start with a six-month agreement. We are not dating, and if I encounter anyone on eHarmony or Match I am going on a date.”

  Frank nodded, buttoning up his pants and zipping up his fly. He wouldn’t like it, but to have her back in his life, he could accept it. Eliza took his hand and squeezed it, looking at the floor. After a moment’s hesitation, he dropped to his knees. “Let’s say 4 pm on the last Friday of the month. You will arrive here and help me out with yard work or whatever chores I might need assistance with, and I will unlock that cage for an hour. It goes back on before you leave, no exceptions. I am not going to be your lover or your girlfriend. I am your key holder, and this is about you making atonement to me for breaking my heart.”

  Frank was so relieved he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, mistress.” He loved the steel that was back in her voice. But he wouldn’t have come and made the offer if he wasn’t serious about it.

  “You have tried sleeping with that on? I don’t want to hear whining that it keeps you awake at night.”

  He had a self-satisfied grin on his face. “No, ma’am. I have been wearing it for 48 hours already. As an experiment to be sure there wouldn’t be any problems.”

  “Of course. My scientist.” Now it was her turn for the self-satisfied grin. “Very well. We are agreed. You can write up a short document for us both to sign when you come back in a week for the last weekend in September. You will also need to bring the small duffle that holds your adult toys when you come, also.”

  His breath caught, but he was nodding, smiling, a little dumbfounded that somehow this plan had worked. He headed for the door, wanting to get to work on her hedges while it was still light.

  The edge was back in her voice when she stopped him. “And Frank, I know those cage locks come with a set of two keys. I expect you to bring me the other when you bring the contract.”

  “What? Oh yes, I thought it would be safer to have it on hand at my place, in case of emergencies, or doctor’s appointments.” He looked at her hopefully. “I wouldn’t use it without telling you,” he insisted.

  There was a trace of anger in her voice. “I can’t do this halfway, Frank. It’s all or nothing. I am not unreasonable, you will have plenty of time when you schedule doctor’s appointments to let me know of your needs. In case of emergencies, nine times out of ten I’ll be available, although I can’t imagine what kind of emergency might lead to inspection of your pelvic region.”

  She waited, patiently as the minutes stretched out while he mulled it over, and, finally, he acquiesced. “You are correct, as usual, Miss Eliza.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a blue velvet bag, pulling open the drawstring. He fished with a finger and pulled out a little key that matched the one on her chain. She accepted it gracefully and had him unclasp the chain so she could add it on. His hands lingered on her shoulders as they had all those months ago when they first met. This time Eliza leaned back against his warmth and sighed, allowing herself a small taste of his comfort.

  He savored the feel of her lush body against him, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo. The two of them fit together so perfectly, and it felt so right. He hated to let her go when she finally she stepped away.

  “Ok, Rusty, g
et some work done before night falls.” She showed him the out and then leaned against the door as he went down the steps and around to find shears in the garage.

  The world had changed in the space of an hour. She never would have guessed that this wild relationship with Frank would take her someplace totally new. But it meant they had a relationship, even if it wasn’t really the usual romantic kind. Trust Frank in his earnest way to come up with a plan to give them some bit of hope. Eliza peeked out the window at him, snipping away at her overgrown hedges. There was no one like him, her rusty lover. He had her in uncharted territory, had somehow convinced her his devotion was still there, still serious. She didn’t really know where it all would lead, but she couldn’t wait to find out.