Page 52 of Objection
I was doing much better at not openly pushing him during work. If I found myself in positions where I leaned over my desk or if I just happened to show off the fact that I was wearing a garter belt under my skirt, so be it. Pure coincidence.
As it was, it was now only ten more minutes until the end of the workday. Ten more minutes and I could openly flirt with him and hopefully brat just enough to get me pushed against the desk or a wall and kissed until I was breathless. Plus, if I riled him up well, perhaps it would make tomorrow night’s scene even hotter. Not that I could truly comprehend such a thing.
Five more minutes.
I couldn’t wait to be done and feel his hands on me again, even if just for a few minutes. His touch was addicting. Now, if only I could persuade him to let me —
“Posey…” his voice interrupted my thoughts. He called me Posey. A quick glance at the clock showed that it wasn’t yet five o’clock. But he called me Posey. Which he never did during the workday. It was like a solemn vow he had taken to never speak my first name in a professional setting.
Until now.
My eyes found his.
“The restraining order has come through,” he announced calmly. I let the words wash over me as I sat there. Or at least I thought I was. Instead, my mind was fixated on the fabric of my skirt, where my hands were wringing together awkwardly and nervously.
The restraining order was finalized. I had discussed it further with Sandra and with Soren only a few days ago. It happened so fast. I felt my emotions swell up like a tidal wave.
I stood up suddenly, needing to be out of this room. Without a word, I ran up the stairs to my room, closing the door behind me with a loud bang. The sound barely registered as I sat on my bed and felt sick to my stomach.
A million thoughts ran through my head. Did I do the right thing? Did I overreact? Did everyone think I was being crazy? And then I remembered David’s face that night. His eyes. The way he looked at me with such malice and loathing. No, I had done the right thing. So why did it feel like such loss? Why did it feel like my heart was going to explode out of my chest?
I saw the wet drop marks on my black skirt before I realized I was crying.
The knock on the door startled me.
“Ms. Adams?”
“Come in.” My voice sounded far away, like I wasn’t there, exactly.
“Ms. Adams, are you alright?” His voice sounded concerned. I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say.
“Ms. Adams?”
When I stayed quiet, he came into the room, pulling the chair from my vanity table and sitting down next to the bed. His presence there was both disconcerting and comforting at the same time. Mr. Wellington was not the kind to be in my bedroom. I wasn’t even sure if Sir should be in my room, plus it wasn’t our kink day. But perhaps Soren could be here.
“Ms. Adams, I —”
“Posey,” I corrected quietly. “Please just… please?”
I had no idea if he would understand what I was trying to say, but when I lifted my head to look at him, to try to explain with my eyes that I just couldn’t right now, he smiled softly and nodded his head once.
“Posey. I’m here.” Just two words. I’m here. That was it and it was everything I needed in that moment. The tears hit again; that overwhelming emotion that rose up inside of me at the pure hopelessness I felt. Hopeless because I had lost a relationship that had lasted the majority of my adult life. I had lost a person who I had held close, who had been there day in and day out, regardless of how toxic it was or wasn’t. Hopeless because I had made a call no person should have to make. Hopeless because underneath it all, I knew I had done what needed to be done. Hopeless because I knew in some small part of me, that this fight wasn’t over.
For long moments I stayed there, crying as I sat on the edge of the bed, curled in on myself in an attempt to find a little bit of comfort. Soren’s presence helped.
“What can I do?” he asked awkwardly, his hands almost fidgeting nervously in his lap as he kept his distance.
“I don’t know.” I gestured, exasperated at the fact that I seemed to know exactly nothing right now. “I’m just…I’m scared,” I finally admitted.
“Oh hell.” He grumbled under his breath. “Scoot over.”
It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t fight it. I made room for him. He kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned the cuffs and collar of his shirt. He crawled into my bed, and I sat there, stunned.
He rolled his eyes and pulled me to him, nestling me to his side.
His head on my pillow.
My head on his shoulder.
