His Muse's Fidelity

by Linnea May

  Cedric looks at me with that same unreadable face he so often displays.

  “I know,” he says. “I know that you tried and didn’t finish, and I know that you’re not a fan of my books-”

  “You know I liked two of them!” I interrupt him.

  He nods.

  “Yes, I trust you did,” he says. “But Renee, it doesn’t matter to me whether you are an avid reader of my work or not.”

  “But…,” I utter. “How can this not bother you? You seem to enjoy talking with Lesley so much.”

  “I do enjoy talking about my work, especially with someone like her,” he admits. “But in the end, she’s a fan. She’s a knowledgeable fan who goes beyond sheer admiration and actually knows her stuff, but she’s a fan nonetheless.”

  He leans over closer to me, placing the tip of his finger below my chin to lift my face up to his.

  “I love you, Renee,” he whispers. “I don’t need or even want my partner to be a fan of my writing. It would create a weird imbalance in our relationship, and I could not handle that.”

  “Imbalance?” I inquire.

  He nods. “Yes. I don’t like to be admired. I like to be challenged.”

  He plants a soft kiss on my lips.

  “You give me what I want,” he whispers. “You should trust that, young girl.”

  I don’t know what to say and just look up at him in disbelief. I don’t know what he sees in me, and I don’t think I ever will.

  “It’s what first attracted me to you,” he continues. “Don’t you remember?”

  I smile and shyly lower my eyes.

  “There I was, doing my thing in front of thousands of people who were glued to my lips, entertained and intrigued by whatever I said.”

  He gently sweeps along my cheekbone with his index finger. “Except for that one beautiful girl in the third row. The only person who was anything but impressed by my silly performance. Who even dared to roll her dazzling eyes at me.”

  I chuckle in embarrassment. “Yes, and you made me pay for it.”

  “I wanted to meet you,” he says in a matter-of-fact voice. “Right then and there, I wanted to talk to you, to grab your attention and make your heart flutter. You were bored, weren’t you?”

  “Well, I-”

  “See, and I couldn’t let that happen,” he interrupts. “To have someone as beautiful as you be bored by me.”

  “You don’t bore me, Cedric,” I whisper and look back up at him.

  “I know,” he says. “But unlike so many others, you are dancing to just the right tunes.”

  He leans forward to kiss me at the corner of my mouth, first on the left side, then on the right. “You keep me on my toes just as much as I keep you on yours. I cannot rely on your fangirl-adoration to keep your interest, and I wouldn’t want to. I have a feeling you see more than that in me. More than Lesley or any other fan does. Am I right?”

  I nod. “So much more.”

  Chapter Five

  During the following days that lead up to his big release, Cedric is even more withdrawn than usual. He barely talks, and if he does it is mostly to himself or his publisher on the phone. I know that he is anxious and nervous, even though he never says so. When I asked him whether I should stay at my place for the week, so he can have some time to himself, he looked at me with a sulky expression.

  “No, why would I want that?” he said. On the contrary, he asked me to stay with him for the entire week.

  I have never stayed with him for more than three consecutive days. I don’t want to overstay my welcome, and I still value my personal space, no matter how much I love him or his luxurious home.

  I know how hard it is for him to ask for support and to show weakness, and I have a feeling that he even wants me to take a few days off of work. He never asked for it, but I could see his eyes light up in relief when I mentioned that I could do that if he needed me to be around.

  “I couldn’t ask that of you,” is what he said.

  “Yes, but would you like it?” I asked.

  He shook his head, and that was that.

  I take off two days nonetheless. Tomorrow - the day of his release - and the day after tomorrow, which is followed by a weekend anyway. Four days during which I will be doing nothing but just be there for him, if he needs me.

  Today has probably been the quietest I have ever seen Cedric. Despite the cold weather, we went for a long walk during which we hardly spoke. We eat in front of the TV, but he only picks at his food and appears to have no real appetite.

  It is agonizing to see how much he is fighting for composure. Again and again I look at him and ponder whether I should say something. Whether I should let him know that it is okay for him to be anxious, nervous, to feel weak and vulnerable.

  I am not an artist myself, but I can only imagine what it must be like to present something to the public that you poured your heart into the way he does with his books. Especially now that I know how personal they are. This one may not tell our story, but I know that I influenced it, that my presence touched Cedric in a very intimate way - and now he is sharing that experience with thousands and thousands of people out there.

  Even I become dizzy when I think of it. I did not lie when I told Lesley and Tom that I am nervous. My heart has not been in this much tumult since that night when Cedric and I first met. The night he pulled me up on stage and shared his insane world with me.

  We both have a little more wine than usual that last evening before the release. He is holding me in a tight grip when we fall asleep.

  ~~~

  The first thing I notice when I open my eyes a few hours later is that his side of the bed is empty. I sleepily roll around to check the time. There is no clock on my nightstand, so I have to blind myself with my phone to find out that is not even 4 a.m. and thus still the middle of the night.

  I place my hand on his side of the bed. It is cold, so he must have been up for a while. I freeze for a moment and listen for him. He doesn’t seem to be in the bathroom or the kitchen, which would make sense because he sometimes gets up at night to get a drink or even a snack.

  Cedric’s sleeping habits are still strange to me. It is not the first time that he gotten up in the middle of the night, but he is never gone for long. When he is not drinking or eating something, he is usually writing something down. Sometimes, ideas ‘attack him’ while he is sleeping; wild dreams that cause him to wake up with a new idea that needs to be written down immediately before it gets forgotten in the morning.

  Somehow, I have a feeling that it might be different tonight, though. I climb out of the sheets, careful not to make too much noise and throw over a light rope that I usually wear in the morning. It is made of dark blue silk, one of many extravagant presents Cedric has given me since we started dating.

  The bedroom door is ajar, as it usually is during the night, so I can slip right into the hallway without causing any extra noise. I pause for a few second to listen whether he might be in his office to the right or in the living room to the left. I don’t see lights anywhere, but after a few moments of concentrated listening, I can hear his voice whispering somewhere.

  It’s coming from the left, the living room.

  I approach the archway that connects the hallway with the living room on tiptoes, but I don’t dare to actually enter the room. Leaning against the exact same spot beneath the archway from which I have watched him before, I see him standing at the window on the other side of the huge living area. He has his back turned to me and is standing close to the little work desk at which he was working when I snuck up on him a few months ago. His well-built upper body is uncovered, and he is wearing nothing but his silk pajama pants. They have the same color as the robe he bought me. I have often joked about him dressing us like twins, to tease him. Teasing often lead to a sweet little punishment and especially during the last few weeks, I have had to put a little extra effort in to get his attention in that regard.

  The picture that reveals itse
lf in front of my eyes is almost surreal. This beautiful man, standing in front of the panoramic windows, soaked in moonlight like a lone wolf. He is looking outside, down towards the quiet streets. Whispering.

  I flinch in surprise when he suddenly starts moving. He turns to the side and starts pacing up and down in front of the window, with his head low and his eyes on the floor in front of him. I move back, hiding behind the archway, but he doesn’t notice my presence anyway.

  He keeps whispering frantically, but I cannot understand a single word he is saying. His words are spoken fast but in an eerily low voice. It’s almost as if he was chanting evil spells. Or praying. I know he is not religious, so the latter is unlikely.

  He keeps pacing up and down the same path right in front of the window, hissing and whispering nonstop.

  Is he sleep walking?

  If he’s outlining a new idea or doing something writing-related, this would be a very unusual way for him to do it. Or maybe I have just never witnessed him working like this.

  I remember the first time I saw him working and quietly withdraw a little further. He seems to be under an immense amount of stress, even more so than I thought.

  I would love nothing more than to be there for him right now, to hug him and comfort him, but he clearly doesn’t want to me there right now. This is not how he wants to deal with this. Walking up and down in front of his living room window and talking to himself seems to be his way for now. I don’t want to disturb or anger him like the last time I watched him without his knowledge.

  So, before he gets a chance to notice me, I quickly retreat and scurry back to the bedroom. I curl up beneath the sheets in hopes of finding sleep. But my heart is pounding too heavily, too fast and nervous.

  What if he harms himself? He seems so distraught; it is not completely out of the question that he could do something stupid.

  Or if he is sleep walking? Wouldn’t that be dangerous, too?

  I don’t know for how long I lie in bed like this, painting horror scenarios of everything that could go wrong until he finally returns.

  I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep, despite my heart still being in turmoil. It is hammering so loudly that I almost feel as if the blanket is bouncing up and down with it. There is no way to tell whether Cedric notices or not. He just quietly slips back into bed and rolls himself on his side with his back turned to me.

  I hesitate for a moment before I dare to crawl closer to him and snuggle up against his back. He is tense, and his heart is racing just as fast as mine but relaxes after a few moments when I wrap my arm around him.

  “Thank you,” he whispers.

  Chapter Six

  Neither one of us mentions the events of last night during breakfast. Despite everything, we just proceed our morning as usual.

  Cedric is up before me and already sipping on his second coffee by the time I drag my feet into the kitchen. He always sleeps less than I do, and I am still anything but a morning person. I find him in the exact same position as I find him every morning: Sitting at the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee in one hand while sliding across his tablet in front of him, scanning the news or his e-mails.

  We smile at each other without saying a word, and I pour myself a coffee while he continues to read.

  “Do you want to eat something?” I ask.

  He looks up from his tablet and turns around on his bar stool. “Why? We hardly ever have breakfast.”

  I shrug and come closer to him, placing my hand on his knee as I stand in front of him. “I know, but you might need it today…”

  Our eyes meet and remain fixated on each other for a while. I know he remembers last night, and I know that he is thinking about it right now. We both are. I am sure he can read it in my eyes just as well as I can read it in his.

  “What I need now,” he whispers. “Is you naked and on your knees in front of me.”

  I blush. That is not the answer I expected.

  He leans forward and plants a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth while his hands move to the belt of my rope to open it.

  “Do you think you can do that for me?” he asks, casting me a seductive smile.

  The way he looks at me weakens my knees and unleashes a swarm of butterflies inside my core.

  I look up at him and strip off my robe to let it fall on the floor to my feet.

  “Yes, Sir,” I whisper and continue to pull the small shirt I have been sleeping in over my head. He watches me as I take off my last piece of clothing, a pair of grey shorts.

  Standing in front of him completely naked as he lays his longing eyes on me is still dazzling. To have this beautiful and perfect man look at me like this…

  My breathing accelerates, and he notices.

  “What did I say?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

  “Oh,” I exclaim as I remember. “On my knees, right.”

  He chuckles as I follow his command. It is a bit awkward to sit on the kitchen tiles, naked and exposed while he is sitting on his high bar stool in front of me looking down at me with so much lust, but fully in control.

  I look up at him expectantly, wondering what he might have in mind this time. This is new, we have never done anything in the kitchen, let alone in the morning just after getting up, because neither of us is a morning sex person.

  Or so I thought.

  A smile appears on his face as he keeps looking down at me. I reciprocate the smile and try to ignore the uncomfortable tiles below my knees. Never would I have imagined to ever be this thankful for in-floor heating systems. The tiles may be harsh on my knees and the bridges of my feet, but at least they are warm.

  A few more moments pass during which Cedric and I just smile at each other, me waiting, him plotting - most likely.

  I instinctively straighten my back, like a well-trained puppy when he gets up from his chair. He kneels down in front of me and caresses my cheek with his right hand.

  “Good girl,” he whispers. “So obedient, so perfect and responsive. There is no sight as beautiful as this.”

  He leans forward to kiss me. I expect it to be another quick peck on the lips, but he is asking for more. His tongue intertwines with mine, invading my mouth with so much sensual force that it sends tickles down my core. I moan and slightly lift up on my knees to be closer to him, fighting the urge to hug him and instead keep my hands on my knees where I know they belong.

  Our kiss ends, and Cedric places his hand at the back of my head, keeping me in place and close to his face. His face is dark and contemplative.

  “I should punish you for making me want you so much,” he whispers. “But we should be getting ready.”

  I cast him a sulky face and sigh with disappointment. “You’re mean…”

  He smiles mischievously. “I know.”

  He gets back up so abruptly that it startles me, reaching his hand down to help me up. “Come.”

  The venue is already crowded by the time we arrive. We are on time but not a minute earlier than we absolutely have to be. Cedric doesn’t want to spend more time than necessary at this event, and I completely agree with that intention.

  It’s a release party organized by his publisher, and because Cedric Crow is one of their main, bestselling brands, they invited all kinds of other big names within the publishing and literature industry.

  It goes without saying that I barely know any of them. I tried to get Lesley on the list, too, because I know she’d be head over heels at this event. In my eyes, it would have made sense to have her here, because she works as an editor herself and maybe even could have gotten a professional invite for her employer, another albeit small publishing company. Cedric tried his best but was shot down. Apparently, it was strenuous enough for his publisher to have the author’s girlfriend present today.

  There is going to be a reception - with champagne, thank God -, speeches, and a press conference that will air on television later tonight. It is the biggest and most important event Cedric has taken me to, and I am pre
tty sure that I am a lot more nervous than him.

  It is hard to tell how he feels. Judging from last night and his behavior the days before, I would think that he is stressed beyond belief, but he is quite good at hiding, especially when we are with other people. He is his usual calm and controlled self, seemingly unfazed by what is going on today.

  His editor is the first person who comes running towards us when we get out of the car. To my surprise, there are cameras flashing as well. I knew there would be a huge media presence today, but I did not expect this to be like a red carpet event. I can only imagine where the pictures that are taken of us when we get out of the car will be used, certainly not in the feuilleton of a renowned newspaper.

  I shy away from the cameras and hide behind Cedric, grateful for his impeccable taste in wardrobe, as he has chosen the dress for me to wear today. Just like his perfectly matching suit and tie, it is in a dark and unobtrusive color. A thick night blue that goes well with my brown hair and the silver jewelry Cedric bought for me specifically for this day.

  “You know, I would love to show you off in something else, something bright and sexy, so the world knows how lucky I am,” he told me while we were still in the car. “But I know that you wouldn’t feel comfortable with that, and it would show. I want to make this as pleasant as possible for you, my shy, naughty, little introvert.”

  “No one needs to know about the naughty part,” I noted, to which he nodded.

  “Yes. Not today, at least. Not now.”

  I have no idea what he meant by that, but we arrived before I could dig any further. For now, I am silently thanking him for being so thoughtful. Being on display like this, the center of attention or at least very close to it, is anything but easy for me.

  I try not to crouch too much and to stand as tall as possible next to him. This alone is taking so much effort for me that I don’t even come to think of speaking to anybody.

  Luckily, I don’t have to say much anyway. Most people here want to talk to Cedric Crow, the star of the day. If anything, they just barely greet me, shake my hand, and exchange a few short pleasantries.