Page 73 of Objection
“Sam, I need your help,” I said quickly after she answered, not giving her even a moment to give some witty retort as she usually did.
“What happened? Are you okay? Is Ms. Adams, okay?” The concern in her voice was strong.
“She told me she didn’t want to scene tonight and she invited a friend over,” I stated lamely. Why was I out of breath?
“She invited another man over?!” she gasped.
“No, no, of course not. One of her friends from our last office. She’s over here eating pizza and watching movies in my living room. And we aren’t having a scene tonight because she —”
“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up,” she interrupted. “You’re telling me that your submissive, who lives with you—”
“In her own room,” I interjected like it mattered.
“Whatever, anyway, your submissive is stressed out with things going on that are out of her control. She told you she didn’t want to scene tonight, which she has every right to do, especially if her headspace is off. She is having a movie night with a female friend who she’s known for years, and you are what? Being all caveman-rawr-mine?” Sam laughed, questioning me and making me feel even worse.
“Well, when you put it like that…” I trailed off.
“When I put it like that, in the actual honest way, you sound like an ass. What is pissing you off so bad?” she questioned.
“She just… I mean…”
“Name the date and time, folks. Soren Wellington is stuttering and sputtering over his submissive. I’m going to mark my calendar for this time next year, so I know I'll be available.” Sam laughed loudly, almost hysterically.
“For what?” I asked, exasperated.
“For your wedding date, you dumb buffoon. You do realize that’s why you’re all twisted up and weird, right?”
“I don’t understand,” I sputtered.
“Of course, you don’t, darling. You’ve met a woman, a submissive woman, who will fight you like I do outside of kink, and you don’t know what to do,” she answered, like that made any kind of real sense.
“If that were the answer, why wouldn’t I just be with you?” I scoffed, running my hand through my hair.
“Because you don’t love me, you idiot. We are friends, we aren’t meant to be lovers,” Sam giggled.
“I don’t love Posey,” I fought back.
“You can tell yourself that all you want, but I’ve known you for a long time. You’ve never behaved this way with anyone else. I think you need to wrap your arms around the fact that this woman has made her way past your steel exterior and is setting up shop inside your heart whether you want to admit it or not. Listen, I’ve got plans tonight with Daniel, but a piece of advice? Go with it. Give yourself permission to have this kind of happiness in your life. You deserve it.”
I let Sam’s words hang in the air long after we had hung up. In love with Posey? No. I wouldn’t allow myself to go there, not after Laurel.
I tried to make myself scarce the rest of the night, but it was impossible. Their laughter carried through the house. It pulled me to them; it pulled me to her.
At one point I overheard their conversation, mainly because I heard my name.
“Who knew Soren Wellington would get it bad for our little Posey here,” Sandra teased as the movie credits began to roll. It was well past ten in the evening.
“Hush, Sandra. You and I both know that Soren is not the kind of man who ‘gets it bad’ as you put it,” Posey playfully scolded. From the sounds of it, they were putting things away and likely wrapping up their girls' night.
“No, I hadn’t thought so, but I will say that only one man has ever looked at me the way he looks at you, hun,” Sandra pointed out.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and I married that man. So, just… be careful.” Sandra’s words were wise, and at the same time, I felt silenced and perplexed by the fact that not one, but two women had commented on the same thing this very evening.
I didn’t love Posey. I didn’t love anyone, save my family. I wouldn’t after losing Laurel. But Sam hadn’t been wrong either. Posey was something different. She was more than any other submissive had ever been to me. She was… well, I didn’t want to think any more deeply into it than that. For now, I would show her in ways I could that regardless of romantic entanglement, she mattered to me. She mattered. Hopefully, that would be enough.
When Sandra and Posey finally made their way to the front door, bidding each other good night and Sandra driving away, I made my presence known again.
