Chapter 59
Istare at the door in front of me, fighting down the fear that's clawing at my throat. Nausea unfurls in my stomach, and I consider dashing to the bathroom and just…hiding. Individual therapy was hard enough for me to grasp. But this? This is somehow worse.
I can already tell how it’ll go. Every moment of my past, all the shame and guilt, laid bare.
Judged. Hated. Forgiveness won’t happen.
I’ve seen the sideways glances from Ian.
They’re more discreet than Jude’s, but I know what they mean.
I’ve been found guilty, and am just waiting for my sentencing.
And the worst part? I can’t disagree with either of them.
My hand shakes as I go to knock. Part of me hopes he doesn’t answer. The other part desperately wants to believe the hope that Javi was shoveling my way. Childish. I know better.
Hope doesn’t exist for someone like me. My sins far outweigh any good I've done in this life. I’ve never said the words aloud, but sometimes…
sometimes I wish I hadn’t been rescued. How different would things have turned out if Cristian and I hadn't returned and burned everything to the ground?
The Council would still have formed, but without the trauma we inflicted on the people we were supposed to care for, the people we were supposed to protect.
Thank fuck they had the strength to protect themselves from us.
“Come in,” the man’s deep voice calls, and I swallow hard.
I’m standing on the edge, hoping for salvation, but dreading the loss of all that remains.
As I turn the knob, all I can do is pray to a God I have never believed in that Tennant, Javi, and Lio are right.
Grasping onto their belief in me when I can’t find any in myself, I step into my future, unsure once again about what I’ll find.
“Hello,” I say softly, but more stiffly than I’d prefer.
I work to control my breathing, using the techniques Javi taught me. The caged lion feeling hits me, but I viciously push it down, reminding myself that’s no longer who I am—who I no longer have a right to be.
With a tight smile, Ian rises from where he’s sitting behind the desk and gestures for me to precede him into the small sitting area. Taking a deep breath, I carefully sit on the loveseat as I let my eyes roam around the room, taking in the décor.
It’s tastefully done. The colors are slightly muted, relaxing, and the artwork is…provocative, yet tasteful. Impressions of people having sex, if I stare long enough. All different types. Soft shifting to more BDSM themed.
There's a man kneeling. My eyes catch on it, and there’s a part of me that yearns. Whether it’s to kneel or to have someone kneel for me, I’m not sure anymore. It’s all mixed up in my mind.
My attention snaps back to Ian, who is studying me intensely. There’s no notebook, just him sitting in a comfortable chair as he…stares. I shift uncomfortably, dropping my gaze. I’m no longer a Master, and my heart hurts as I can’t find it in me to meet his challenging stare for long.
A soft sigh escapes him, and my eyes flick to him before darting back to the plush carpet.
My body is tense. I want to run. I want to curl into a ball.
Everything is no longer safe. It’s always this…
mess of contradictions. It’s what I live with constantly.
It’s why I find myself shuffling to the kitchen day after day, pretending…
always pretending that I have someplace where I belong.
A muttered curse flows from Ian, and with a jolt, I shakily look at him, unsure what will happen. He swallows, running his fingers through his hair, before his countenance softens—slightly.
“Hello, Sandro.”
“Hello, Sir,” I respond automatically, my cheeks flushing, but if he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t say anything.
He shifts in the chair, rubbing his chin for a moment as he assesses me. Carefully, making sure he has my full attention, he says, “I owe you an apology.”
“Sir?” My forehead furrows as confusion swamps me. I…don’t understand this. At all.
His body relaxes further as he leans backs, steepling his fingers. “Do you know why I became a therapist? Specifically, a sex therapist?”
“No.” It’s soft, barely a whisper, but he hears it.
With a bracing nod, he waves a hand around the room.
“Sex therapy encompasses a wide area. Everything from sexual dysfunction to trauma to societal issues surrounding sex, and much more. However…the one aspect that I have always strongly believed in, that I’ve always tried to live by, is being nonjudgmental.
Providing my patients with a safe space is core to what I do.
“Unfortunately, in this case, I let my position in the kink community sway how I saw you. I judged you harshly, and honestly, unfairly, before we even had a chance to meet. I’d like the opportunity to change that.
I believe we have a great deal to learn from each other, as this will be a journey that we take together.
I want you to be comfortable with me, as we’ll be covering a wide variety of issues.
“However, the ball is in your court. You lead, and I’ll offer you whatever insights and help that I can.
All I ask is that you’re honest with me.
In exchange, I offer you a promise. Honesty and also respect.
Because you deserve that respect. It doesn’t need to be earned here.
You are in control, and we’ll discuss what that means further.
But please, will you accept my apology and my promise? ”
I sit in shock, my brain is struggling to process the words.
Respect? It’s a foreign concept. I love my Boys, but I know the difference between the loyalty they gave me and respect.
Even the man who makes my soul sing…he kneels for me, is loyal to me, and somehow, incomprehensibly, loves me.
But respect? Why would he respect me? The only one who has likely ever felt any respect for me is Cristian, and that’s because two flawed Bosses survive an alliance that way.
Swallowing, fighting to breathe, to hold myself together, I meet Ian’s steady gaze and open my mouth, only to close it again as tears begin to clog my throat. Fuck. I…what do I do? Do I strip myself bare? And if so…how?
I think of Lio, of his strength. I remember the comfort Tennant so freely gave me.
There’s another fork in the road. I thought I understood it coming in, but fuck, I didn’t.
Maybe I couldn’t until someone seems to be holding forgiveness in front of me, taunting me with promises of a better future if I can be as brave as those around me.
I scrub at my face, trying to erase the tears that are beginning to leak out. Then I force myself to step into the light, to let him see me and the ugly truth that exists in place of a soul. Because I know I’m nothing but a monster, and Lio’s love is the only thing that’s ever redeemed me.
“Honest?” I croak out, a broken laugh escaping me.
“How’s this for honesty… I have no clue who I am anymore.
I get up every day, even though, at times, I wish I didn’t wake up.
I exist only because maybe I can do something for the ones I love.
Otherwise, I’m a ghost. Not just to the people who barely tolerate me, but to myself.
“What am I? I have no clue. A broken Master is all I see in the mirror. Lio thinks he needs me, but truthfully? He’d be better off without me. And suddenly, fuck, I even have the urge to kneel for another man. I’ve never been submissive…not really.
“I mean, sure, growing up, but it was always to prepare me to take over, to become the next Il Padrone. A lie. A twisted, grotesque version that never truly fit. Yet, now? Now, I have nothing. I am nothing. I lived for those around me, and they don’t need me anymore.
I’m not part of this Family. What can I do?
I’m an albatross around their neck. Around mine.
And…some days, I struggle to put one foot in front of the other. ”
Ian breathes slowly and I try to mimic it, to find a calmness, but it eludes me.
“That must be a very painful revelation. Perhaps this journey can be about self-discovery, and who you want to be. But it starts with forgiving yourself…and learning to live for yourself, not others. I need you to be selfish—”
I snort, interrupting him. “I’m sure everyone would say I’m the most selfish person they know.”
His quelling glare has me subsiding, deferring to him.
“As I was saying, I need you to be selfish and think about yourself. The others may have seen you as selfish, but I have a feeling, they didn’t get to see the real you.
If all you let others see are small slivers of yourself, they can’t form a full opinion.
“So, please, that’s your homework. I want you to do new things—try, dare to fail.
And then in the next session, we’ll talk more about it.
We’ll also discuss kneeling and how kinks can evolve.
One very important thing…the power is much more on the submissive’s side than the dominant’s when it comes to kneeling.
Once you learn that, letting go is far easier. ”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. Instead, I give in to the confusing, violent swirl of emotions inside me, letting it crash over as I gasp for air between the tears cascading down. I bury my face in my hands and cry silently, my heart screaming, but my mind is oddly empty.
The next thing I know, strong arms envelop me.
I don’t look, though. Not when I can hear Tennant’s soothing voice.
I grab onto his shirt, clutching it so tightly it might not survive.
Maybe if he holds me tight enough, I won’t fall apart completely.
Maybe I’ll still exist despite this torrential melee of feels.
Maybe…Fuck. I stifle hysterical laughter, because I swear, that’s one of the few words left in my vocabulary…fucking maybe.
Uncertainty is what I have…what I breathe, but if Ian can help me find my way back to living…I’d give anything for that. Fuck, I’ll even offer myself up on an open platter for him to dissect, because maybe I won’t be found wanting for once. Wouldn’t that be a damn miracle?