Raw and Broken Ch. 03

I hadn't slept at all, fearful that something would happen to derail my plan before I could put it into action. I had to leave so I could think clearly. To devise a way to get Drake to see that Jimmy was the same person he'd always been so we needed him out of our lives as soon as possible. Ultimately, I needed to determine what had gone wrong with our marriage...and if there was any hope in salvaging it. I'd never been so happy to hear that six AM alarm buzzing.

Even though I couldn't change what had happened, I couldn't help thinking about it. As the evening breeze tousled my hair now, I wondered if I would have married Drake had I known all of the details about his betrayal. What I would have done if I'd found out sooner about Jimmy.

"Can I join you?" Becca asked, popping her head through the trapdoor in the floor.

"Sure." I set my glass aside and sighed. "It's beautiful up here. Please tell me if I'm monopolizing your private space."

"Monopolize away." Becca pulled the other lounge chair closer to mine. "How are you doing?"

I shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I've had a couple of days to process everything. I'm still very angry."

"Because my brother cheated on you? He came after you? Or because of Jimmy?"

"None of the above."

"Really?"

"I'm mad that he felt he couldn't talk to me. About any of it." I sniffled and cleared my throat, trying to draw the tears back in but failing because I felt one slide down my cheek. "We used to talk about everything. But lately? I'm not privy to what's going on his head. And I want to be again. It shouldn't matter that I'm his submissive. I'm still a human being. I'm his wife, his soulmate."

"I understand."

I was expecting her to get up and give me a hug. Instead, I heard her chair squeak as she sat back. We were both quiet for a several minutes. I closed my eyes and had almost drifted off to sleep when she spoke again.

"Malcolm and I have been talking."

I groaned inwardly. "I know. I know. I've outstayed my welcome. Hell, you're newlyweds, and I just showed up on your doorstep. But I can't go home right now. Not until I can figure out what to do next. I will make other arrangements. I promise. I'm sorry if I've—"

"Daphne, stop it. We're not kicking you out. You're welcome to stay as long as you need. You're family." She reached out, and I felt her fingertips graze my arm before her hand patted the top of mine. "But we do need to discuss where to go from here. Especially between you and Drake."

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the chair so that I was facing her direction. The moonlight outlined her body as she reclined, her head turned toward me, hidden half in shadows. My chest tightened. She was right. Hiding from the truth didn't make it go away.

"Daphne, I need your agreement to at least hear us out before making any decisions."

I nodded. Then I realized she probably couldn't see me. "Yes. I'll listen."

"That's all we ask." Becca stood up and did give me that hug. Then she started down the ladder. "We'll be in the living room. Take your time."

I stared into the darkness of the night for awhile longer. So many thoughts ran through my head of what Becca was going to propose. I waffled between what my limits would be for each scenario...what I would or wouldn't do to save my marriage, even though that went against my submissive nature. In the end, I figured there was only one way to find out. Worst case, I would decline whatever they suggested and look up my old roommates in Chicago to see if I could crash with them, wherever they were now.

I shut up the windows before descending to the sitting room below on the third floor. My heart was beating so fast as I continued to the main level. I was thankful Drake wouldn't be there tonight, but I knew I had to face him eventually. He was still my husband. And he would return this weekend.

For now, though, I took solace in being able to talk openly with Malcolm and Becca. I would hear them out. And hopefully, they would give me guidance for the future.

###

Becca and I spent Friday sunbathing. There was a group of four older couples a few yards away perched in those old aluminum, folding chairs with plastic armrests and the colorful, weaved webbing on the seats and backs reminiscent of the 1970s and 80s. They sat perpendicular to the water to avoid the strong wind currents and faced down the beach toward Ocean City with three large umbrellas stuck in the sand behind their line of chairs.

We saw the group arrive this morning at the first house on the left as you entered the cul-de-sac. It was the smallest house, and it seemed out of place compared to the other houses around it. Maybe because it looked like it had been built a few decades before the others...and the dark color made it look dingy. Becca said the owner rented it out and only came around a couple of times a year. Outdated and neglected. Not what I would have expected for a beach house. Then again, I hadn't expected Malcolm and Becca's house to be as it was, either.

Two of the male guests had lugged a cooler while the women all seemed to carry a bag, a towel, and a book as they'd traipsed across the asphalt single-file and crossed over the pathway next to Malcolm and Becca's house. The remaining men had hauled the chairs and umbrellas. None of guests had moved since they'd staked their spot on the beach two hours ago. Such a carefree attitude with no hurried schedule or concrete plans other than to relax. I wish this trip had been that way for me.

After we'd gotten enough sun on both sides, Becca and I returned to the house. Malcolm made us crab cakes for lunch, and we sat out on the porch watching the ebb and flow of the waves while we ate. The visiting group was still in their spot down the beach. Off in the distance, we saw sails from several boats against the horizon line. The sky was clear and blue. It was idyllic. And I never wanted to leave.

It wasn't the first time this week that I envied my best friend and my sister-in-law. They seemed very content with their life out here. It didn't seem to bother them that I'd crashed on the last bit of uninterrupted time alone they would have for awhile since the university's fall semester would be starting soon for Malcolm. And Becca had said she needed to start on the next book in her trilogy now that they were settled in.

So far, I had managed to enjoy my day at the beach. But as the afternoon grew on, Drake's pending arrival lay heavily on my mind. Not just what he would think about the proposal I'd already heard about. But, more importantly, if he'd already chosen on his own to walk away from our relationship during this short time apart. I still wasn't sure how I felt about not being with him "'till death do us part."

I was up in the observation room when I heard a car pull into the cul-de-sac. I took a peek below and saw a black sedan had parked in the driveway. My heart did flips as Drake got out. His navy polo shirt and jeans clung to his body as if they were painted on. His hair was combed back and appeared a little shorter than usual. I watched him retrieve a duffle bag from the trunk, and then he stopped and stared at the house. My hands felt a little clammy—my mouth a little dry—as if I was waiting for him to pick me up for my first date.

I snuck down to the third floor and stood near the stairs, listening for someone to let him in. The bell rang. There were the sounds of greetings being exchanged between Malcolm and Drake. And then Becca said she would go find me.

Footsteps echoed from below. They were quick at first but grew more measured the closer the sound grew. I saw Becca round the last curve of the stairs, her head down.

"Hey, Becca."

"Daphne, hey!" She pressed her hand to her chest as she saw me waiting on the landing. "Drake's here."

"Oh, already?" I glanced over her shoulder. As if I expected him to be right behind her.

She followed my line of sight, which was basically at the wall from where she stood, and then pointed at her feet. "He's in the living room. Come on down."

I nodded and gave her a half smile as she squeezed my hand then turned around.

I followed, pausing on each step to take a deep breath in and letting it out before continuing. When I had finally reached the main floor, I stood frozen in the foyer. My breathing had become more labored rather than relaxed.

Malcolm found me gripping the intricately-carved railing. He softly coaxed me to let go. To follow him to my other favorite room in their house, the one with the most wonderful view of the ocean. I expected that we would be in the living room area, but I saw Becca sitting at the dining room table.

"Daphne." Drake rose from his seat across from Becca as I entered. "How are you?"

I stopped short, our eyes meeting. His gaze shifted to where Malcolm stood to my right, and he sat down again. I just nodded at my husband. Now that the moment was here, I wasn't so sure I could go through with this. Especially since we would be so close. But I took a seat next to Becca, and Malcolm sat across from me next to Drake. It felt odd not having Darryl here to complete our kinky intervention circle of five.

"Drake. Daphne." Malcolm tilted his head toward each of us as he spoke our names. "Can we skip the pleasantries for the moment and get right down to business?"

"Yes," both my husband and I answered.

"Good. We need to lay some ground rules before we continue. First and foremost, we want you both to know that you're more than welcome here. At any time. But you need to remember that you're still married. You have a special relationship like Becca and I have. We encourage you to nurture it, especially when you've hit a roadblock like this. It may seem like there's no way to repair it, but we have hope that you can. That you will."

Drake had his hands clasped on top of the table. I saw him move them forward slightly then he stopped. As if he wanted to reach out to me but had changed his mind.

"Daphne," Becca said, "you have expressed your concern about going back to California right now."

I nodded.

Malcolm cleared his throat. "I spoke with Drake earlier this week, Daphne. I told him our offer to let you stay with us until you've made a plan together. That he would be welcome to visit when he can."

"He has countered with his own," Becca said.

I blinked at her. Her mouth was a straight line. Stoic. So much for a sign of what she thought about this new offer. I slowly turned to Drake. My heart seemed to stop for a moment. I both wanted to hear his idea and feared that he was going to suggest a divorce. I suddenly realized it was the last thing I wanted. Yet if it was his desire, I would concede.

"Daphne." Drake did reach out now, but when I didn't reciprocate, he flattened his hands on the tabletop. "I can't imagine how this past week has been for you. I know I've said it so many times already that you may not believe me. But I'm sorry. I truly am. For all of it. I never meant to betray you. To push you away. I love you. I don't want to lose you."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. To realize he wanted to repair our marriage, not break it up. When he turned his hands over, I limply placed my right hand in his. He lightly rested his left hand over my fingertips. Both my diamond and his silver band glinted from the sunlight streaming in the window. The pose reminded me of a picture we'd had taken at our wedding.

'For better or worse.' The words echoed in my head. I let out a shaky breath. We were definitely dealing with the latter.

I wanted to tell him I loved him, because I really did. But I couldn't seem to form the words. A shudder ran through me as he squeezed my hand. I lifted my head again, and his eyes bored into mine. I held his gaze, unblinking, until he released me and sat back.

"I can't stand being apart—" Drake put his fist to his mouth, and I thought I saw tears in his eyes. But his cheeks remained dry.

"He's going to try to rent one of the beach houses in the cul-de-sac," Malcolm explained for him. "You'll stay here, for the time being. That way, you'll be close but can still have your separate spaces while you work things out."

"One thing we insist on is you both see someone to talk this out professionally," Becca said as she placed a hand on my forearm.

I gave her a weak smile. "I'm open to that."

"I highly recommend my psychiatrist. We're both going now that we've moved here permanently. It's reinforcing. Helps keep us in perspective."

"There are a lot of things that you need to discuss. Find agreement on," Malcolm said. The slight hitch in his breath made me turn my head to him. But he wasn't looking at me. He was staring at Drake. "Do not forget that while she may play the role of your slave or your submissive for however long and in whatever capacity you consensually decide on, above all, Daphne is your wife. Your life partner."

"I know," Drake said, nodding at our brother-in-law.

"Do you? Do you really? Your actions of late run contrary to your words now. We have a term in the lifestyle that you know all too well: ownership. It is not for everyone, and it should only be embraced after serious consideration. A Dominant's sub is not a trinket to put upon the shelf to admire until it no longer pleases him or falls off and breaks. He needs to understand that if he treats his sub like that, the damage may not always be visible. But it'll slowly work its way out. Trust me. I witnessed it on that landing four years ago. I'm seeing it happen all over again. And unlike that trinket, she can be dropped many times before she completely shatters. Once she does, though, no amount of time or apologies will be able fix her."

I shuddered, thinking back over the months. To just before our trip to Chicago when we thought Becca was on her death bed. I'd ceased seeing myself as Drake's spouse. I'd become that trinket. Since then, I'd become just as battered and bruised as I had been with Jimmy. But it was all on the inside now. And my cracks were finally coming to the surface.

"A sub chooses her position, to be under her Dominant's care. She expects him to have her best interests at heart." The corner of Malcolm's mouth lifted up as he glanced at Becca. Then the turned back to Drake. "Even if her desire is to be objectified—which I don't believe is in Daphne's repertoire of fetishes—she is still a human being. She has feelings. Her agreement to surrender control to you should be held in the highest regard. She has handed you the key to unlock her most inner desires and has put her complete trust in you. She should be treated with more care than the most priceless artifact. She's irreplaceable. I thought I had made that clear to you while I was training you."

Drake had been watching Malcolm throughout the lecture. He lowered his gaze to the table now where he'd cupped his hands. He opened his mouth but said nothing.

Malcolm sighed and rubbed at his temples with one hand. "Let me put it another way. I'm not making light of the issue when I say I consider you the Anakin to my Obi-wan. I had faith in you. I still do. Don't make me regret taking you under my wing. Or question my own abilities. Daphne is your Padme. Your heart. Don't destroy her while trying to fulfill your own selfish desires. Because that is the path you're heading down. I want to believe we removed Emperor Palpatine's influence before it was too late. But it's up to you whether or not you become Vader. Only you."

I crossed my arms, trying to quell the shudders that suddenly wracked my body. I'd not seen the Star Wars reference coming. And yet, it rang so true it was scary. Especially since I knew how that story had ended. We could change our fate, though. We had to at least try.

I studied Drake's face. How his chin trembled. He appeared to be fighting to keep his composure. As if showing his true emotions made him a lesser man. A bad Dominant. He'd been listening too long to Jimmy's lies. Been away from Malcolm's support that he so desperately needed. He had opened up to us a week ago. But just like I'd been accustomed to doing after stepping off the stage, he'd retreated into the shell he knew best.

Drake raised his eyes to meet mine. A tear escaped when he blinked. "Whatever we need to do."

I released the breath I'd been holding. And a true, honest to goodness smile graced my lips. The pain in my chest was no longer solely from desperation. Joy was leaking its way in as well.

"I have one further stipulation," Malcolm said. He waited until my husband turned to him before continuing. "As long as you are with Daphne, you will have absolutely no further contact with Jimmy Driscoll. It's not up for discussion. I don't know or care what he's told you about the incident at the club or his relationship with her, but he is not to be trusted. He can be someone else's best friend because he's nothing but bad news to this family."

"Already done. I blocked his number on the way back home." Drake scrubbed his hands over his face for a moment. "I'm sorry I've brought this on all of you. It's not who I am. Who I want to be. I hope that in time, you can all forgive me."

I blinked through my tears. "We are far from being whole again. But I'm at a better place in my understanding of what has been driving you. I want things to get back to the way they used to be before we were married. If that's even possible."

Drake nodded fervently. "I'll do whatever it takes."

As we all stood, Drake came around the table. I was stiff as he hugged me. But when he pressed my head to his shoulder and kissed my hair, I clung to him, sobbing. I'd missed him so much. I hated how things were right now.

That night, upstairs in the guestroom that would be my temporary new home, I opened the windows that looked out over the Atlantic. The summer breeze drifted in, making the short curtains dance. Above the dark water, the distinctive red lights of an airplane blinked across the star-studded sky. Although I was surrounded by my best friend, sister-in-law, and now my husband, I felt as isolated as that plane up in the atmosphere.

Malcolm and Becca's suggestion held both promise and trepidation. They'd given us a generous deadline of nine months—until I'd given birth—to work on our marriage. To determine if we were better off with or without each other. With or without the kink factor. And we had to decide not only for ourselves but also for our unborn child.

My breath caught as one thought nagged at me in the silence. What if—despite what he'd said—Drake realized he'd rather be Master of the Universe than the man I'd fallen in love with? The man I thought I'd married? I would be left to raise a baby on my own.

Those thoughts brought new tears to my eyes. I wiped my fist at them as I climbed into bed, considering not being with Drake at the end. I didn't want that. But I refused to return to the life we had.

###

On Saturday, Malcolm thought it would be a good idea to do something as a group. It was a little strange walking beside Becca instead of Drake as the four of us strolled down the boardwalk in Ocean City. I'd always envisioned doing something like this, holding my husband's hand, catching kisses on the sly.

Instead, I watched his back as he talked with Malcolm while Becca and I shared our own conversation about her books and Malcolm's new job. How their lives had been since we'd last seen each other and they'd moved out east. I'd been around them for several days now, yet we hadn't done any of the catching up I thought we'd do. We'd kept to ourselves, mostly at my own doing.

I was reminded of Drake's strength in the way he carried himself. How straight he kept his back and neck as he walked. How his shoulders were relaxed but their girth implied muscles beneath. He was quite fit, and his clothes did little to hide that.