by Sienna Parks
“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 down, 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.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your apologies. I want you to stop treating me like I’m the enemy. I’m your biggest ally. We’re supposed to be a team.”
She runs into my arms, her small frame trembling. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be horrible, especially not to you. I love you. Tell me you know that.”
I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight, afraid to let go. “I know… I know.” As I stand here, clinging to the girl I love more than anything, I’m filled with dread for the days and weeks ahead. It’s not going to be easy for her to put her life back together, or for us to get back to where we were what seems like a lifetime ago. Maybe we won’t ever be the same again, maybe all we can do is stumble forward, putting one foot in front of the other, and hope that we can make a future together. What it will look like, I don’t know, but what I do know, is that I want her to be in it. “Why don’t you go and have a lie down. I’ll come get you when dinner is ready.”
Her body slumps against mine, in defeat. “That actually sounds pretty good. I’m a little tired.” She gives me a hesitant, soft kiss on the lips before heading for the guest room. I hate watching her go anywhere other than my bed, but it’s too soon. If she’s in my bed, then I’ll make love to her, because I won’t be able to stop myself; and if we make love, we’ll ignore all the issues that we need to deal with, content to lose ourselves in each other for hours at a time, giving us a closeness and a connection that we obviously lack in the rest of our relationship at the moment.
I want her so badly it hurts. I want to worship every inch of her body, to show her what she means to me, to try and make her see herself through my eyes, but I’m concerned that I would do more harm than good. I thought that I was a good Master, attentive to her wants and needs, emotionally available for her, and that we’d found a balance of discipline that worked for us. Now, looking back, it seems like it was all a lie. It’s left me questioning every decision I make regarding her, and that in itself proves that I can’t be the Master she needs right now. Until I can find my own way back, and feel confident in my abilities, I can’t initiate anything physical with her.
I know her well enough to know that my decision will make her angry, but I can’t let that be a factor in this. She needs love, and discipline, and understanding, and I’m going to find a way to give her all of that. I can’t lose her again. I won’t.
I hear her screams from down the hall. She’s having a nightmare again. I quickly turn off the heat on dinner and head for her room. It’s become a routine now. I crawl onto the bed beside her, careful not to startle her, and then I stroke her hair, whispering words of comfort until she calms down, and slowly comes round from her dream. It happened the first day she got home, and it’s happened every day since, for the past two weeks. It’s making her reluctant to take a nap at any time of day, but her body has been through so much in recent months, she can only fight it for so long before she has to give in and rest. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It was just a bad dream.” She coils her body around me, burying her face in my chest. “Can you tell me about the dream?”
“I don’t… I can’t.” She starts sobbing uncontrollably, and all I can do is hold her until it subsides. I’m treading water here until she opens up to me, but I feel like I’m drowning.
“Are you hungry? I’ve got loads of food, and Carter called to say that they have a babysitter tonight, so I invited them over. I hope that’s okay?”
“Yeah. It’s fine. I’ll freshen up and be out in a few minutes.” I give her a tender kiss, which she tries to deepen, but I pull back, not trusting myself to stop.
“I better go and check that nothing’s burning.” I make a quick exit, adjusting my pants to alleviate how tight they feel all of a sudden. One kiss, and I’m like a horny teenager. It’s been four and a half months since I made love to her in Paris, and I miss her more than I can put into words. I miss the Vittoria I fell in love with.
I distract myself with setting the table, and when the buzzer lets me know that Carter and Addi are here, it’s a welcome relief. Being alone with Vittoria all the time is intense, and with no way to release the tension, it’s becoming almost unbearable. I haven’t made love to her, and I haven’t punished her since she got home. I haven’t treated her like my submissive, because I’m trying to give her space to rediscover who she is. It’s torture, and there have been times that I have wanted to tie her up, punish her, and fuck her until she can’t take it anymore. I can tell she’s frustrated, too, but her frustration turns into anger, which inevitably gets directed at me. I’m hoping that tonight, she can find a way to relax and enjoy some time with Addi. I really need to chill and have a few beers with my friend. To just be me for a few hours.
When I open the door, I feel like a weight is lifted off my shoulders as they step inside.
“Hey, bro, smells fucking amazing in here. I’m starving.”
“Good, it’s ready.”
I say a quick hello to Addi before shouting to Vittoria to let her know they’re here. She comes bounding down the hallway, before jumping into Carter’s arms. Her entire demeanor changes; a glimpse of her old self shining through. “It’s so good to see you guys.”
“It’s nice to see you, too. You look amazing. How are you?”
/>
“I’m good. Logan’s taking great care of me.”
Did I just hear her right? Fuck, she’s like a different person. Not the girl I’ve been living with for the past few weeks. Maybe company is exactly what we needed to diffuse some of the tension around here.
We sit down to a great meal, Carter and I catching up on work and sports over a few beers while Addi very tactfully decided to make mocktails for her and Vittoria. Tori isn’t supposed to drink alcohol right out of rehab, because they don’t want addicts to replace one drug for another. Addi has this way of getting what she wants - she doesn’t make it obvious, and she doesn’t patronize. She sweeps you up into whatever she’s doing, and all you can do is sit back and enjoy the ride. I can see why Carter is so besotted with her. They’ve been through so much, and it gives me hope, that Vittoria and I can weather the storm and come out the other side stronger.
It’s nice to see her laughing again. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her smile a genuine, carefree, beautiful smile.
After dinner, we take up residence on the couch. Carter and I fire up the PlayStation and decide to go old-school with some Street Fighter. It’s a rare window of opportunity to relax and unwind. Addi is busy with Vittoria, and for a brief moment, I don’t have to take full responsibility for her, but unfortunately for me, it doesn’t last long. I should have known better than to let my guard down, even for a few minutes.
Vittoria starts stumbling around the living room, spilling her drink before tumbling head first into my lap.
“What the fuck? Are you okay?” I pause the game, throwing the controller down on the table and shifting her head back, away from my cock.
She looks up at me, her eyes glazed. “That’s not the reaction I usually get when my lips land in your lap.”
Carter grunts in disgust. “For fuck’s sake! Brother in the room. Too much fucking information.”
“Don’t be such a prude! You’ve had more women suck your cock than I’ve had hot dinners.”
