Before Him Comes Me

by Sure, Alexandria

  “Zara Faith, I am so, so sorry for your loss. Aubrey loved you so much. I know that this is going to be really hard on you, so lean on us. Allow Garrett and me to be your strength today.”

  Garrett wraps his arm around Zara and guides her into the front entrance of the funeral home.

  The inside is dim. It is quiet and smells heavily of flowers. Chairs are strategically placed in mini sitting areas. The carpet is thick and absorbs the sounds of their shoes.

  Zara knows when they are getting closer because both of the bodies assisting her tense. Mrs. Dawson releases her and walks through the double doors that are facing them. Garrett folds Zara into his arms.

  “Okay, bring her in. Garrett, I will stay with the Community after and you may take Zara home.”

  With one last tight squeeze, Garrett releases Zara and leads her through the doors. Straight ahead is a casket. The top is open.

  Community women dressed in dark colors sit in the pews. As the three make their way toward the casket, Zara feels the stares.

  Two feet from the end of the aisle and the casket, Zara stops. She releases Garrett’s hand and steps forward. Keeping her eyes focused on the floor, Zara steps up to the casket. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she takes the last step to reach the side of the casket.

  Atop a pale pink pillow lies her mother.

  Mother, you look beautiful. A peach outfit. A favorite of Father’s, I’m sure. It looks too big.

  Looking closely, her mother appears thinner. Her hands had been crossed on her stomach.

  “This is not supposed to happen,” Zara repeats over and over.

  Suddenly beside her, Garrett lifts her chin to meet his eyes and speaks quietly and forcefully. “No. Little One, it was not supposed to happen. You need to remember one thing: your mother was a wonderful woman and I know this because of the woman you are. You had her in your life and she spent as much time as she could getting to know you and teach you what was important to her. Take that and the fact that she loved you to get through this.”

  Zara processes Garrett’s words looking as deeply into his eyes as she can. She was her mother’s daughter.

  Her mother had been a proud woman in her way. To her husband, she had been the best slave she could be. There was nothing that would make her waver in her submission to him. As a mother, she took the job of raising the future to heart every day. Every moment was a teachable one. There were no off days. There was only progress.

  Garrett blurs as Zara’s eyes fill with tears. Zara turns once again to look at her beautiful mother lying peacefully in her forever bed.

  Chapter 28

  Zara looks around the space that had been her living room her entire life. Nothing looks the same. Her mother is dead. Her mother. Her teacher. Her mirror. She is gone. The room would never be the same.

  Standing, Zara makes her way to the bathroom to shower. She feels dirty. It may be the feelings she is experiencing or the fact that she has been in a church with her mother lying in a casket. She cannot pinpoint why she needs a shower or if it will even help.

  The water pours over her head and down her body.

  My body. The body that was to be owned by a chosen Dom. A future that had been chosen for me. A body that had never really belonged to me until he released me from my collared future.

  Zara turns the handles of the shower to cut the water. She wraps a towel around her body and another around her gathered hair. Slipping into a tank top and yoga pants, she grasps her pendant while staring at herself in the mirror.

  The light cast from the bathroom highlights Garrett’s form in her bed. She flips the light off and pads lightly to the side of the bed. Climbing under the covers, she can feel the warmth of his body.

  Zara stretches and moves closer to him, unable to stand the thought of space between them.

  “Hey, you,” he whispers. She cannot tell if his eyes are open, but she can tell he is alert. His arm comes around her and Zara nuzzles into the spoon he has created for her.

  “I loved her. I wanted her to be proud of me. I thought that I would have time to make up for choosing college over the collar. I never would have stopped the Ceremony if I had known she was not going to be here.

  “She taught me to be a submissive. She prepared me to serve my Dom, you, to the best of my ability. Walking away from that was like throwing everything she taught me in the garbage. It was like saying I never wanted to be who she wanted me to be.

  “The worst part, I never wanted to become like her. I was ashamed when she slid to her knees at my father’s command. I hated that her service to him took priority over us. I hated that she never had a thought of her own. I hated him for owning her. I did not want to be owned. I was kneeling in the Circle wishing the whole time that there was a way out.

  “This is the day I am going to watch my mother buried.” Zara stops. She pulls away from Garrett and turns on a lamp.

  Zara stands and looks at the dress she would wear to the church. The question in her mind is not whether or not she likes what had been selected for her, but whether her mother would approve.

  So many of her recent choices had been made without her thinking about whether she had the approval of her mother. Friends, music, dancing, even her feelings for Garrett that began to grow the moment he placed his hand on her shoulder inside the Circle had been made on her own. Zara’s choice to walk out of the Circle and leave all of her mother’s traditions had been made by Zara alone.

  She considers how her choices were affecting her this day. She had been home for three days and her father had not spoken a word to her. Fredrik had not come into her room to check on her or talk about the mother they shared. Her best friend, Sloane, had turned her back on her.

  As her foot hits the last step, Zara realizes there are people in the house that she had not expected. She hears whispers but is unable to identify anyone.

  Every fiber of her body knows she has no right to seek Garrett’s strength. There is no collar around her neck, no wedding ring on her finger and yet he holds her like he realizes he is her lifeline.

  “Zara, I cannot imagine what you are going through right now. You are quieter than I can take. I know that you are working hard to come to grips with what is happening. The Council is here and your father and I need to make sure you are ready for that.

  “Can you nod for me, Little One? This is part of the day’s procedures. The Council is here to pay their respects to your mother. She was a highly respected member of the Community and this is an important part of the service for her.

  “Zara Faith, I do not know what the reaction is going to be toward you and me. We both made a decision to walk out of the Circle without completing the Ceremony. I need to ask if you want to go in there or if you would rather I take you to the church directly.

  “I will support your decision whichever it is, but it is important to me that you understand that I believe that it is your place to go in there and accept their condolences. But I also do not think you should accept any negative treatment.”

  Wiping Zara’s tears with his fingers, he brings her face to his and places a soft kiss on each of her eyelids. “I will be by your side no matter which path you decide.”

  Taking a cleansing breath and squaring her shoulders, Zara takes the handkerchief Garrett offers and dabs the tears away from her eyes. She gives him a reassuring smile and his slight nod is all the communication they need as Garrett takes the first step toward the den where the guests have gathered.

  With his free hand, Garrett opens the door and walks through. He says hello as he enters the room, not to any one person but to the room as a whole. Zara squeezes his hand as he gently pulls her to him. Her eyes are glued to the floor as her training rushes back instinctively.

  The room becomes silent when Garrett and Zara enter. He leads her down the length of the space to the small sofa under the window and instructs her to sit. He remains standing next to her on the other side of the armrest. She looks up at h
im, almost hearing her mother clear her throat for taking her eyes off the floor, but today Zara needs to be able to look into Garrett’s eyes. She requires his strength to get through what is ahead of her.

  Zara finds his hand on her shoulder and returns her gaze to the floor in front of her.

  “Legs crossed at your ankles. Back straight, Zara Faith, hands in your lap, one on top of the other. Never squeeze your hands together. Your Dom will want you relaxed at all times. Please pay attention to what I am telling you, Zara. Your actions reflect on me. I am a reflection of my Master. I will not allow you to tarnish his image.”

  The memory of her mother directing her sitting position floods Zara’s thoughts. Breathing as deeply as possible without making Garrett’s hand move from her shoulder, Zara clears her thoughts. She begins to remember how the grass felt through her fingers while she sat in the hidden garden. The different smells of the flowers and the soil and how those smells changed as the weather changed.

  Moments after calming her thoughts, Zara hears the shuffle of Council members approaching her. Her entire body tenses and Garrett removes his hand from her shoulder and walks around the sofa to sit next to her. When he lowers onto the seat, Zara releases a breath she had not realized she was holding.

  Taking her hand off her lap and placing it on his knee, Zara cannot prevent her eyes from following her hand to Garrett’s knee. He places his hand over hers and waits. In a matter of moments, a line of polished shoes crossed in front of Zara and are gone. Nothing could get Zara to raise her eyes high enough to scan the room.

  “Time is a funny thing. When you watch a clock it seems to slow down before your eyes. And when there is no clock it seems equally slow. Are you ready to go?” Garrett asks. Zara notes that he did not lower his voice so the others in the room could not hear him.

  Rising from his seat, Garrett holds Zara’s upper arm to steady her as she rises. “Would you like to make a quick stop before we leave?”

  Shaking her head no, Garrett wraps his arm around Zara and escorts her out of the room. As they reach the threshold, Zara turns to look back in the room to find she and Garrett are the last to leave.

  Condolences had not been given to Zara on the loss of her mother by any member of the King Council. Her father had not approached her to see how see was doing. Garrett and Zara had sat in the room with the men who had paired the two of them and they had not exchanged one word with any of them.

  Realizing this was the last time Zara would be in this house, her eyes fill with tears but not one tear falls. All the rest of Zara’s tears today would be saved for saying goodbye to her mother.

  Pulling her into his chest, Garrett holds her tightly before leading Zara out the door to the waiting car.

  Chapter 29

  Peter is wearing a black suit with a black tie. The white of his shirt is brilliant with the sun high in the sky. As they approach the car, Zara hears the older man say that he is so sorry for her loss. The thank you that comes out of her is so weak it surprises her.

  Once Garrett is on the seat next to her and the door closes, Garrett lifts her up onto his lap. As he caresses her back, Zara melts into his chest and relaxes for the first time since stepping out of the shower.

  Finding peace on Garrett’s lap is short-lived as the door is opened from the outside. Taking a moment to settle her rattled emotions, Zara exits the car and straightens her dress.

  Before Zara can turn around, a familiar set of arms wraps around her body and draw her in. Feeling her brother’s hug after so long undoes Zara and her tears flow freely. Turning in his arms, she looks into his tear-filled face.

  Fredrik repeats the same sentence in Zara’s ear, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”

  Knowing no response would sooth his guilt, Zara shakes her head and holds him tighter.

  Zara’s body tenses at the sound of her father’s voice. He speaks to Fredrik alone, making the displeasure of the emotional outburst of the siblings clear. Zara releases her brother and steps back with her eyes on the curb.

  Without raising her eyes higher than her father’s hands, Zara sees they are balled into fists on either side of him. She recognizes the black suit and shoes her father is wearing. He had worn them the last time she was in his presence.

  Unable to stop the sob that overtakes her, Zara places her hand over her mouth. As hard as she tries, her mother’s training fails her. Continuing to sob, she realizes that her mother’s training had not failed; rather, she has failed her mother.

  Garrett is close enough to catch her as her knees begin to buckle. He places his arms around her to draw her close to his body. The contact gives her the strength to step forward.

  As Zara takes a step forward, her father turns and walks back to the door of the building. Fredrik turns to follow, but pauses to wait for Garrett and Zara. When they get to the entrance, Fredrik holds the door open so Garrett does not need to release his sister. As she passes by, Fredrik reaches out to take Zara’s hand.

  Zara hears somber organ music coming from the sanctuary. Her eyes find her brother’s and he gives her a half smile. It was the same smile he would give her when they were younger and he would head off to class while she stayed home to train with her mother.

  It is not a smug smile. Rather, it is sympathy for things not being equal between them. Many times Zara had sat on the floor of her room and tried to explain to him that it was like that in every family. Boys were always treated differently than girls.

  One night, Fredrik had snuck into her room to check on her. Zara recalled the first time she had been spanked. She had talked back to her mother at dinner because she wanted to go to a birthday party being held for one of the girls in the Community. Her father had placed his fork and knife on his plate very gently. Quietly, he said “Aubrey” in a tone that both kids knew would transform their mother.

  Without a glance at her daughter who was misbehaving, their mother placed her utensils on her plate and gracefully slid from her seat at the table to kneel at her Master’s feet. Verbal communication was not required between their parents and neither Fredrik nor Zara were prepared for what was coming next.

  Ordered to finish their meal by their father, Zara’s hands shook with every bite she had to lift to her mouth. She sat at the table with her brother and father as her mother waited at her father’s side with her head lowered in perfect submission.

  Once the meal was over, Fredrik was ordered to go sit in the den on the sofa by the window. Standing, her father lifted his slave’s chin and they stared at one another. Walking by Zara sitting stock still in her seat, he did not look at her or say anything.

  Her mother rose to her feet and came over to where Zara sat and said, “Zara, your behavior at the table was unacceptable. When you asked if you could attend the function with Sloane, what did I tell you?”

  Looking at her mother with a river of tears running down her face, “You said I could not go.”

  The response was a whisper. Knowing she had behaved poorly, Zara lowered her head in shame.

  “Your actions are a reflection of me and you have made me look foolish. You will be punished for your actions and then you will clear the table and do the dishes. Do you understand?”

  Zara responded with a slight nod.

  “Good. Your father is waiting in the den for you with a paddle. You will get four swats for tonight’s misbehavior. The number of swats will be increased each time you misbehave. Now go and receive your punishment.”

  Zara searched her mother’s eyes and found sadness in them. The fact that her behavior had caused her mother to be reprimanded was a difficult concept for Zara to grasp. “Zara Faith, go now.”

  Sliding out of her chair, Zara lowered her eyes as she had been instructed to do when going to see her father. Walking into the den, Zara knew that Fredrik was being forced to witness her punishment. Seeing the large paddle on the sofa next to her father overrode all other thoughts.

  Instructed to bend over the coffee
table and hold the edge, the first swat took Zara by surprise. The intense sting was not instant. Split seconds before the second swat, the burn of the first hit took her breath away.

  The intensity of the fourth swat caused Zara to release her grip on the coffee table and fall forward on it. Annoyed, her father said that her failure to comply with the instructions she was given should garner her an additional swat. Already crying hard, Zara’s entire body shook at the suggestion of being hit again.

  Her father did not follow through with a fifth one that night. He stood and walked out of the room without saying a word to his daughter.

  Not knowing what to do once their father had left, Fredrik came to Zara’s side and helped her off the table. Being the older sister, Zara instructed him to go to his room and play with his trains. He gave her a hug and ran to his room, but not before Zara saw the tears in his eyes that he tried so hard to hide from her.

  After clearing the table, then washing and drying each dish, Zara had walked slowly to her bedroom. She did not change her clothes. She did not want the material to brush over her very sore behind. Lying on the bed on her stomach, Zara released the tears she had been holding in.

  It was not long before Fredrik slipped in the door and sat on the floor next to her bed. He did not speak or cry. He was there to check on how his older sister was doing and to attempt to come to grips with how their family functioned.

  Once Zara had stopped the crying, he asked her why their family was like that. At the time, Zara did not have an answer. She told him that it was how mother and father were raised.

  Zara was seven the night that took place. Over the years, the explanations became more involved. They discussed the fact that Fredrik was going to be a Dom someday with a submissive of his own and Zara would be a submissive to her own Dom.

  For Zara, stepping into the sanctuary is harder than all of those difficult conversations with Fredrik combined. The aisle Garrett had walked her down a day ago feels longer on this trip. Unlike her trip to the Circle on her birthday, Zara does not attempt to catch a glimpse of anyone as she makes her way closer to her mother’s casket.