Chapter Five
SHAY
I brought the notebook Rayne gave me with us to the dining area for lunch. It’s so bright and sunny out; maybe after our walk, I can sit on the grass and write a bit in it. He said he would be reading what I write, and that’s fine; I just want somewhere to get all of my thoughts out.
I’ve always liked writing; ever since I was a kid, I liked to imagine different scenarios, characters, and stories and write them down.
Even when I lived with Arin, I would create stories in my head, but I would never write them down.
I was afraid. Afraid Arin would think less of me, that he would tell me I was being silly, and not in a way that he enjoyed.
I wasn’t allowed to do anything creative; most days I felt like a pretty prop he was free to use when he was bored.
I would sit in my room, lost in my own thoughts, for hours until he came to let me out.
Sometimes I imagined I was a beautiful princess stuck in a castle all alone until my Prince Charming would come and rescue me.
Stupid, I know.
I had dreams of going to school for creative writing; of sharing my stories with the world.
Instead, I was kept away from the world, shut in, and only taught how to please my master.
It’s been so long since I’ve been on my own, and I’m afraid I won’t like it and find myself living life as I have for the last 13 years.
Rayne is quiet during lunch—he was too busy watching me take every bite of food I put on my plate. I put together a small salad with fresh vegetables and a piece of salmon.
This would be a typical meal at Arin’s; he didn’t want to spoil me with too much food, or else I’d get too heavy for his liking.
Years ago, I would find the idea of him taking control of my every meal endearing; like he really cared and was taking care of me.
As the years went on, I realized it was obsessive control, and I had no say or choice in anything that I did, wore, or ate.
I eat quickly so we can go outside—I’m so giddy with excitement to write in my notebook. Rayne was very intentional with his food choices, I noticed. Heavy on the protein, and some vegetables on the side. I can see why he is so muscular and fit.
I wonder if he’s married or has a girlfriend. I don’t see a ring on his finger. Would someone who does this kind of work be married? Would it be inappropriate if I asked? I want to know more about him; maybe it would help me feel more comfortable around him, but I’m afraid to ask.
He is my trainer after all. Shouldn’t we be able to trust one another? It seems like he wants me to trust him and feel comfortable around him.
“Are you married?” I blurt out. He doesn’t respond right away, and I hope he didn’t hear what I said, but he finally answers.
“No. Were you?” His eyes are focused on mine. There is no anger or surprise, only curiosity.
“No—Arin never believed in marriage. I don’t think I would make a good wife, anyway.” However, I don’t really believe that. It’s just something I was forced to believe.
“Why do you think that? Haven’t you ever wanted to get married? Most girls dream about a big wedding.” He has a beautiful smile. The dimples in his cheeks really stand out when he smiles.
Have I noticed that before? No, I don’t think so; I usually don’t make much eye contact with him, but at the table I have no choice.
We are sitting across from one another, and I don’t want to look away.
If I look away, I have to see the other people here with their partners, and it makes my stomach tense.
“Can we go outside now?” I got my answer, and I’m not willing to give out more information than I need to. If we stay here any longer, I’ll end up opening up in a way I’m not ready for.
Rayne looks a little disappointed, but he picks up his dishes and mine and brings them to the counter.
I walk towards the front door I came through when I first arrived.
For some reason, everything looks different now that I’ve been here a few days.
Things aren’t as frightening and overwhelming as they once were.
The front door opens, and the sun shines through. I can instantly feel the warmth and a light breeze tickle my skin. This is what freedom must feel like.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt it, but I think I’m ready.
We sat outside for a while. I soaked in as much sun as I could, and now I’m a bit sunburnt. My skin is hot to the touch, but that’s okay. It’s been too long since I’ve been out in the sun for an extended period.
I used to tan and soak in the sun all the time when I was younger.
Lying on the beach in a bikini with my friends seems like a lifetime ago.
When I first moved in with Arin, I missed doing those kinds of things.
I missed all of my friends and the fun we used to have.
I missed out on a lot being with him, but then I remember that none of my friends ever reached out after I told them what I was doing. Not one ever made sure I was okay.
In the beginning, I wondered if I had made a mistake.
After a year or so, I had forgotten all about my old life, and only lived to please Arin.
He taught me from day one to be submissive; that he would be the one to take care of me.
I had no safety net of my own, so when I saw what he had to offer, I took it.
I figured it would be easier than trying to find a good-paying job, live on my own, and navigate my future at 20.
We met at an art gala in New York. My best friend at the time was an up-and-coming artist who was offered a small section in a big studio. I went to support her and get some free drinks out of it. We were supposed to go out afterward to celebrate, but someone caught my eye immediately.
He was wearing a dark blue suit with a white shirt underneath.
No tie, so he looked relaxed; less formal than the others there.
I watched him walk around, observing all the unique pieces, and his expression was that of a satisfied man.
He was in no rush, didn’t care to speak to anyone; he just enjoyed his time there.
I envied him at that moment. He had no care in the world—looked like he had money or came from money. And when we first made eye contact, the gallery went quiet around me. The world seemed to grow quieter and more peaceful. I had lived in such chaos for so long that I had never known peace.
He brought that into my life. From the very moment we met, everything changed. No more struggles, no more pain; only comfort and solitude.
For 13 years, I lived with him, as his pet, his confidant, his comfort. No—I was his slave, and I was too terrified to admit it.