Page 3 of Follow Me
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his friends. He missed them like hell and knew she did, too.
The problem was, it hurt his heart watching them do things he didn’t dare do with Mal right now and had no idea if he’d ever be able to do with her again.
Because despite what her therapists—and his own friends—told him, he still wondered if maybe he was the one at fault. If maybe their Master/slave dynamic somehow pushed her over an invisible edge he never saw and was contributing to her issues now.
They’d nearly had a fight today, and yet he’d caved and given in to her, even though he wanted to side with the center that she shouldn’t leave for another overnight yet.
But she’d promised to eat what he told her to. And she had. A salad for lunch that she’d finished, along with one of her protein shakes. He’d made them mac and cheese for dinner, with cream of chicken soup—two of her favorites—and not only had she finished the serving he gave her, she even had a couple of spoonfuls of mac right out of the pot, giving him a playful smile as she did that made his heart ache because of the hope that wanted to bloom and which he quickly stomped back.
He’dbeenhopeful.
Manytimes.
He didn’t want to get his hopes up yet again just to have them dashed, and then worry how not to take it out on her or how not to let her think she’d disappointed him.
That wasn’t what it was about.
Fear.
He wasterrifiedhe’d lose her.
He felt…helpless.
Two weeks ago during a joint session with Mal’s therapist, when Kel had finally brought up the option of uncollaring her, of taking any kind of D/s off the table in case that was part of the problem, Mal had gotten so upset she’d literally raged and the therapist had sent him out of the room so she could get Mal calmed down.
He’d never seen her so angry.
So desperately in pain, and him unable to make it better no matter what he did.
At least if she was inpatient, he knew they’d keep an eye on her, keep watching her, let him know if there was a problem. Yes, he missed her like hell. Yes, sleeping alone fuckingsucked.
But at least the facility kept heralive, which wasn’t something he felt confident he could achieve now. He’d already failed her several times, unable to figure out what the hell to do for her to keep her from backsliding.
It’s only one night.
Hell, if she did okay tonight, maybe he could use the promise of future overnights like this as bribes for her to try harder, to keep working.
To not give up.
Early on, he’d tried going the Master route on her to get her to take care of herself. He’d tried working with her during intensive therapy programs designed for him to help her with her routine and hopefully help her find recovery. They were on yet another pharmaceutical regimen. She’d had bouts of short-term success, but nothing that had reallystuck.
Every time he thought she was on the right track and finally finding a solid recovery, and he let down his guard, they ended up back almost at square one again.
There was only so much her body could take before it gave out.
If he lost her, then he’d have lost everything.
She was quiet on the ride to Seth and Leah’s house and he didn’t try to make small talk, knowing it’d only devolve into snippy, tense exchanges revolving around her recovery plan.
For tonight, he wanted to do his best to be as “normal” as they could.
Maybe the glimpse of everything they were missing might help motivate her. He didn’t know. He was beyond trying to be logical about it.
Desperation ruled his mind.
All the way there, she rested her hand on his thigh as he drove, and he kept his lying on top of it but afraid to grip her too hard. He felt terrified he’d harm her.
Once they were parked at Seth and Leah’s, he turned to her. “We won’t stay late tonight. All right?”
