by Ivy Smoak
"Why do I still love him?"
Snuggle Muffins sighed.
"I know he's a jerk. Obviously he's a jerk. But we had some good years too. So many good years. How did we wind up so far away from this couple?" I lifted the album.
Snuggle Muffins just blinked at me.
"What if I can change his mind? Before you say no...he doesn't remember what we were. And he really seems to like me. He's been begging me for a kiss all day."
Now Snuggle Muffins looked stern.
"What? I know he's my prisoner, but that doesn't mean his feelings aren't real. Prisoners have real genuine feelings too. There's a word for that I think. Stockholm something?"
My silly dog whined.
"Fine. I'll look it up if you're being so whiny about it." I pulled out my cell phone and did a quick Google search for “Stockholm prisoner." The first suggestion that popped up was for Stockholm Syndrome. "Aha. Stockholm syndrome. See." I waved it in Snuggle Muffins' face and then read the definition at the top. Affection felt in a kidnapping by the hostage toward the kidnapper? Hmm. That didn't sound like a real thing. Maybe I was thinking of a different term. I read the definition again slowly as the realization hit me. "Oh." I shook my head. "That's not what I was thinking. I just meant that now that he has to listen and actually see me that he realizes he loves me."
Snuggle Muffins sighed.
"I know that that's basically the same thing!" Damn it. "He doesn't have Stockholm Syndrome. You're drunk." I laughed at my own joke. Or was it even a joke? I wasn't really sure anymore. "You're a ridiculous dog. Come on. I'm going to go have sex with him."
I threw my hand over my mouth. "That's not what I meant. I promised you I wouldn't. That just slipped out because I was thinking about his perfect abs." I lifted Snuggle Muffins into my arms. "You didn't get to see them the other day, but they were really nice. It's been so long since I've gotten to touch. And he definitely doesn't have that syndrome. You're being ridiculous."
I carried my overly opinionated dog back downstairs and down into the basement. When I set him on the ground, he walked over to the reindeer in the corner and started sniffing it. I was glad he was distracted. Because I was worried I was about to sleep with Noah, and I didn't want Snuggle Muffins to judge me.
"Hey."
I turned around and stared at Noah. He flashed me his perfect grin.
I was wrong. He looked better in this outfit than a tux. "Hey, Noah." I hadn't been using his name. But the jig was up. He'd seen the tan line on my finger. He knew. I knew that he knew. And he was going to tell me everything.
"I like the pajamas better without the matching pants," he said.
The fact that he had no reaction to his name was more proof that he remembered. I was going to get him to tell me everything. "Yeah?" I unbuttoned the top few buttons. "I think you'll like what's underneath even more." I unbuttoned the rest and let it balance precariously on my shoulders. I guess I'm definitely going through with it. Don't look at me, Snuggle Muffins!
"We can both agree on that," he said as my satin nightgown came into view.
"So I was thinking. Maybe every time you tell me something I want to know...I'll lose an article of clothing of your choice."
His Adam's apple rose and then fell. "That sounds like a fair arrangement. But first, I'm pretty sure your dog needs to use the bathroom."
"Our dog," I corrected as I looked over Snuggle Muffins. "He's fine. I'm litter training him." I pointed to the litter box I'd set up in the corner of the basement. The two men in my life needed to learn how to share.
"Yeah...that's not a thing."
"Of course it is. He's just as smart as a cat. He'll figure it out."
"Smarter than a cat. Which is why he's never going to use that box. He doesn't want to step around in his own piss."
Huh. I never thought of it like that.
"Yup. He's definitely about to pee on Rudolph."
I watched as Snuggle Muffins started to lift his leg. He was going to perform the perfect fire hydrant arch.
"Bad dog!" I ran over, lifted his furry little body, and got him safely into the litter box before he ruined Rudolph. "There." I sighed when he emptied his bladder in the box. "Good boy." I patted his head. "Now, where were we?" I turned around.
"You're going to make me use that too, aren't you? That's what you were talking about earlier?"
"Let's not talk about your bathroom arrangements right now. You're kind of ruining the mood." I pulled my flannel pajama top closed again.
He raised his left eyebrow. "Then ask me a question. I'll answer it. And you'll lose the flannel top."
"I thought you liked it?"
"I'd like it better pooling around your ankles."
I tried to hide my smile. Which became easier as I thought about my first question. "Do you think maple syrup and hockey are sexy? Like...would you find me more attractive if I guzzled syrup and wore hockey jerseys around the house? Is that what men are into these days?" Just thinking about it made me mad. I'd introduced Noah to syrup. Shouldn't that give me Canadian status in our sex life?
"I don’t think maple syrup is sexy unless it's poured all over your naked body. And I'm more of a football fan. But if you wanted to wear a football jersey around the house and nothing else...yeah, I could get down with that. And your French toast is amazing. You can drizzle maple syrup over that whenever you want. Now lose the pajama top."
"What?" I gripped the fabric tighter. "Shit." Why had I asked that question? It didn't get me anything and gave him what he wanted. I was supposed to be playing him, not the other way around. I needed to be smarter about my next question. "Fine." I pulled off the warm fabric and tossed it on the chair in front of him.
"Beautiful," he said.
I swallowed hard. My throat was acting weird. Not having the flannel made me cold. I was probably going to get sick. I swallowed hard again as his eyes trailed down my body. I glanced down at the thin satin fabric. What the hell had I been thinking? I folded my arms across my chest.
He smiled.
I looked back down. Folding my arms had basically shoved my breasts up to my chin. Damn it. I dropped my hands to my sides.
"My turn for a question," he said. "How would you feel about tying me to our bed instead of this chair?"
"That's not...that's not how this game works. You don't get to ask questions."
"Why not? You ask one. I ask one. We both slowly get naked. It's a win-win."
"This isn't a win-win scenario, Noah. I'm in charge. Now stop trying to distract me."
"Yes, ma'am."
The way he said it made my stomach clench. God, he was so handsome. Stop it. "Tell me about Sophia."
"It was just a kiss. A mistake. A one-time thing. There was too much alcohol flowing in the hotel bar. It meant nothing. Absolutely nothing."
Wait. What? That was not the answer I'd been expecting. Just a kiss? "But the calls. Detective Torres said there were calls to her every week like clockwork."
"To her company, not her. I don't even know if she even works there anymore. I swear. I didn't even know her last name until you told me."
I opened my mouth and then closed it again. Just once? Just a kiss? It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Not two years. Just once. He swore it was a mistake.
"Did you say Detective Torres?" He frowned. "Are you talking to a detective about me?"
I stared at his lips as he frowned. "You don't get to ask questions.” My eyes locked with his as I tried to remember what I needed to ask. “What can you tell me about Dr. Collins?"
"You had problems getting pregnant."
No shit, Sherlock. I glared at him, trying hard not to focus on the box in the corner. The one with all the unused items for our baby boy that I’d lost.
"Didn't you think there might be a solution? That someone could help? It was just consultations. That's it. I swear. You deserve children if that's what you want. You deserve everything."
He looked so sincere
. And his words made my eyes grow slightly watery. I did deserve to have children. Consultations with a doctor? That explained the longer hours at work. Was this really all a misunderstanding?
"Lose the nightgown," he said.
I felt like I was dreaming as I pulled it over my head. Had I misjudged everything? I swayed slightly to the left but caught myself from falling over. My head was spinning. But not enough to ignore the fact that I was wrong. The feeling seeped into me slowly. I was the idiot. Not him. I walked over to the champagne bottle and lifted it ungracefully to my lips. Had I really drugged Noah, tied him up to a chair, and threatened to cut off his balls for no reason? I chugged straight from the bottle. No. No. He drained our bank accounts. He was going to leave me. He was a cheat. A master manipulator. An asshole.
"You're lying," I said and pointed the bottle at him.
"I'm not. I swear I'm not. I meant every word. Look at you. No one in their right mind would cheat on you. And that kiss? I swear it meant nothing. It was over before it began. Nothing compares to your lips."
I licked my lips as my eyes fell to his mouth.
"Have I earned that kiss yet?" he asked.
Why did he keep asking questions? "What about the money? Why do our bank accounts have a balance of zero? What the hell?"
"The interest rates on the savings accounts at that bank sucked. I transferred the money to a different bank with better rates. That's it. They're in the process of mailing you a new card. It'll be arriving any day. Now lose the bra."
He transferred it? The money really wasn't gone? He wasn't planning on leaving me? I don't know how it happened, but I somehow wound up on his lap. My fingers were tangled in his hair. And I was kissing him. With relief. With joy. With...shame.
But it was hard to feel that last one. Because the soft look of his lips was deceiving. His kiss was more powerful than I was anticipating. He thrust his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. Savoring me.
I'd made a mistake. I'd made a horrible mistake. This was the only way I could think to fix it. To kiss him back with everything I had. My kiss begged for forgiveness. I was pretty sure his did too. And as far as I was concerned, two wrongs made a right. They had to.
It was like I was back in that limo on our wedding day. He couldn't get enough of me. I couldn't get enough of him. This was a new beginning. A fresh start. Kidnapping him had somehow wiped the slate clean.
He groaned into my mouth.
It was the sexiest sound in the world. Especially when it wasn't surrounded by scheming and lies. My fingers dug into his scalp. I shifted my hips forward, wanting to close the gap between our bodies. And that's when I felt him. He wasn't lying. He was as hard as a rock. And God, I wanted him. I needed him. I could still have everything I wanted. A loving husband. A baby. It wasn't too late. I could fix this. I could still be the perfect suburban housewife. With the perfect house. The perfect lawn. The façade I so desperately wanted to uphold. All I had to do was untie him.
I reached behind him and felt the coarse rope around his wrists. What had I been thinking? Kidnapping? Seriously? That wasn’t me. I was loving and kind. If anything I loved too hard.
I pulled away from his kiss even though all I wanted to do was stay in the moment the entire night. I needed to say something. To get it off my chest. "I'm sorry." I placed my hands on either side of his face. "I'm so sorry. I thought...I should have just talked to you from the beginning. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Can you forgive me?"
He pressed his forehead against mine. "If you can forgive me?"
"You're already forgiven." I smiled at him. How could I have ever been upset with such a perfect face? I kissed him again, slower this time. Like we had all the time in the world. Because we did. We could grow old and gray together now. I hadn't fucked everything up.
He bit my lower lip and I grinded against him harder.
He groaned.
I needed him. Now. I pulled back again and reached behind him to the ropes. But my fingers paused again. "Do you have Stockholm Syndrome?" I asked.
He laughed. "What? No."
"Are you sure? Because I was reading about it and..."
"We both know this started before you kidnapped me." He smiled. "Speaking of knowing things...you still have to take off your bra."
I stared into his eyes. He remembered me. Why was I questioning this? I doubted he could get Stockholm Syndrome when he knew me. That wasn't how it worked. It was exclusively for strangers. Probably. And this feeling...it was real. I'd recaptured love.
"Can I ask you a question now?" he asked.
"Anything."
"Before we do this." He pulled away so he could stare into my eyes.
It felt like time stopped. If he asked me to put my rings on now, I'd run upstairs and shove them on. I wanted a future with him. I wasn't lost anymore.
"Your name. Tell me your name, beautiful."
My heart stopped beating as my palm connected with his cheek. The slapping sound reverberated around the basement and I was pretty sure Snuggle Muffins yelped from the corner. But I didn't turn. I just stared at Noah. The traitor. The mother fucking liar. "You don't know me?"
"I..."
"Lies," I hissed. "All of that was lies?"
"Probably not. The answers made sense to me."
"But you made them up!"
He laughed.
Oh. Hell. No. I scrambled off his lap. "All of that about Sophia? Dr. Collins? The money? Was any of that true?" My voice cracked.
"What did you expect me to do? You're demanding answers and I don't remember! I told you that. All I know is that I wouldn't cheat on you." His chair jumped forward as he struggled against the ropes. "I wouldn't. Not on you. Ever."
"You don't know that."
"You're a fucking goddess. And I'm not an idiot. I'd worship your body. I'd give you everything you ever wanted."
Except a baby. I turned away from him. I felt cheap. And used. I'd believed his lies. Willingly. Just like I'd believed the lies for years. He did love maple syrup and hockey. He liked women who couldn't pronounce "about" correctly. He cheated on me. And I was done listening. "Snuggle Muffins. Come." I walked over to the stairs and my dog came running to join me.
"Obviously I want you. Didn't you feel how much I wanted you?"
I did. In his kiss. I felt him beneath me. But it was all a lie. He didn't know me. He was just manipulating me. Again. I was seconds away from falling apart. I'd grown accustomed to being used over the past several months. It had somehow become part of our love story. He'd ruined us. But looking him directly in the eyes and hearing the lies? I didn't have to put up with that. I was stronger now. The love story I held on a pedestal had burned to the ground. But Noah had been the one holding the match. He'd ruined us. He'd ruined me.
"Stay," he said. "I'll tell you everything I do know. About my childhood. About college. It's only the last several years that are fuzzy. Please, just stay and talk. Remind me of who you are. What we are. Because I know it's a story for the ages."
My hand paused on the railing. I wanted to stay and talk. When I'd been looking at our wedding album, part of me hated him. But the other part? It felt like I had a second chance to do things right. Who was lucky enough to ever get a second chance?
"Please," he said. "Stay."
But in the past few days I'd had another second chance too. Another chance at living my life. I'd proved to myself that I wasn't nothing without him. I didn't need a him. Not anymore. And besides, I already knew his fucking story.
I walked back over to him. For a second I just stared down at him. But just for a second. I pulled the gag back in place and turned away. "Goodnight, Noah."
Chapter 12
Saturday
For the second night in a row, I couldn't fall asleep. I stared at the ceiling instead of trying to count sheep. I'm single and loving it. I'm single and loving it. I'm single and loving it. I kept repeating the mantra over and over again in my head. But I couldn't convince my head wh
en I knew it wasn't true. All I wanted to do was run back downstairs to Noah. To straddle him. To untie him and see what sinful things he wanted to do to my body.
I glanced over at the empty spot in the bed beside me. It was still perfectly made. Maybe I wasn't scared of the darkness swallowing me whole. My fingers traced the spot where my husband always slept. Maybe I just didn't know how to sleep without him next to me. Noah's spot felt so cold and empty. Especially since I could so easily fill it back up. He'd asked to be tied to my bed instead of a chair. I could switch things up...Stop.
A part of me wanted to go into the basement. I could grab a few pillows and my comforter and make a pretty comfortable nest beside him. Would that help me fall asleep? Just being that close to him? Smelling his cologne? Hearing his light snores? Knowing that I wasn't alone?
I'd walked away from him for a reason tonight. I could have taken things further. But I was trying to get a fresh start. Not stumble right back into his lap. Literally.
But the bed was so cold without him.
Snuggle Muffins whimpered.
I leaned over the edge of the bed and stared down at him.
He was sitting at the base of my bed, staring back.
"Go to your dog bed." I pointed to where I'd put it in the corner.
He didn't move.
"I'm not making you sleep in the garage. I've already given in and let you inside. And up to my room. We're already breaking the rules. What else do you want?"
Snuggle Muffins lifted up his paw and touched the side of my bed.
"No," I said. "Absolutely 100 percent not, Snuggle Muffins. You're a dirty little monster and you can't come up here."
He sighed.
I looked over my shoulder at the empty spot in the bed. Maybe having Snuggle Muffins up here would help prevent me from sneaking down into the basement. Because my body really really wanted to be next to Noah. At this rate I'd probably sleepwalk down there if I didn't fill this empty spot. "Fine. Just this once." I leaned down and lifted him up on the bed.
