In a battle over the laundry that was lying on the floor rather than in the laundry basket, I finally asked him for a divorce. On the morning of our third day apart, I'd barely made it out of bed. The kids were playing outside while I sat on the sofa, crying over a glass of Pinot Grigio and wondering how my life had gone so wrong.
We weren't newlyweds and taking care of our kids and home had taken the best of me. Generally, I was too tired to even think of sex. Of course, the fact that Mark only looked at me when he was trying to guide his head into my mouth made the prospect even less interesting.
The phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID. Of course, it was Mark. He'd called all morning. But, this time I wiped my tears, picked up the phone and tried to sound unaffected. "Hello?"
"Hey. Don't hang up on me, Em. Okay?"
"Didn't plan to."
"Good." He paused. "Meet me at the lake. I rented cabin 272."
"I don't want to meet you, Mark. I've had enough. It isn't as if either of us really cares anymore. We're just prolonging the inevitable. Haven—"
"Just meet me. I won't take no for an answer. Drop the kids off at Mom's. They'll be staying the night. If what I have to say doesn't affect you, then you'll have your divorce."
I clicked the phone off and slammed it onto the table. I wanted to call him back, just to tell him where to stick it. But, that would only make things drag out longer. The sooner he gave up, the better.
***
I knew the place, the same as our honeymoon. Quiet, secluded log cabins that were spaced far enough apart that no one could hear when we fucked. Not that we were going to recreate our honeymoon.
Rolling down the window, I could smell the rain soaked forest and steered the Jeep down a narrow gravel path to the cabin. Trees in full bloom shades of green and white shaded my path. It was always so beautiful up here. Why hadn't we been back in all these years?
Following the sign, I pulled into the private drive of 272. Mark's black truck was there, parked to one side. I moved between it and the porch steps, expecting him to hear my engine and come out. He didn't.
Grabbing my bag, I closed the door and slipped up the stone walk toward the door. Still, there was no sound or sight of Mark other than his truck.
When I stepped onto the porch, I noticed a red rose with a pink sticky note tied to the knob. I pulled the ribbon and opened the note.
"We're both bored. Since we don't have fun anymore, lets start. If you're game, come in and follow the directions on the table."
Simple enough. It wasn't exactly like he was surprising me with the sex idea, but he was at least trying to be creative. Besides, if I backed out now he'd say I didn't at least give him a chance.
I opened the door. On the table in front of the couch was a black sleep mask. The sticky note beside it read
If you have the nerve--Get naked. Then come to the bedroom door, slip on the mask, and knock
.
Well, I wasn't crazy about the idea. He obviously wanted control of the situation—and me. We'd discussed this. I didn't like him—or anyone—telling me what to do. Why was he doing this? He knew I could just turn around and walk out, and that I probably would.
That was his plan. He'd called me a coward in our fight. He was doing it again now. Just to show him, I'd play his little game. After all, I had resolved to try new things.
I locked the front door and closed the drapes, then undressed in the dark. My shirt, skirt and bra even went without causing me too much anxiety. But once I began to slide off my panties, I felt it, that familiar cringe in my stomach that meant I was getting a bit too far outside my comfort zone.
With one swift movement, I slid them down my legs and stepped out, tossing them onto the couch. Not giving myself time to think about what I was doing, I grabbed the mask and padded barefoot toward the door.
With one deep breath, I slipped the mask on and pulled the elastic into place. I knocked on the door. Within seconds, the knob turned and the door squeaked open.
"I really didn't think you'd do it," Mark said, his voice betraying his smile.
"Hah. Don't know everything, do you?"
"Apparently not." His hand slid up my forearm, warm and soft, before gripping my shoulder. "I'll lead you from here."
He pulled me forward a few steps as I fought the urge to push my hands out and grope my way around. He'd love that, wouldn't he? Me looking like a scaredy-cat.
"Okay. Stop here."
I heard the door close behind me. Then, I felt one of his fingers touch the small of my back and trace its way down, just were my thong would have went. I shivered.
"Now." His voice was steady and carried a new confidence. "You
are
going to trust me. You will do what I want, when I tell you. If you don't, there will be consequences. Understand?"
This was just far too close to something my dad would have said, the bastard. "No, I--"
His finger pressed against my lips. "You're not to speak or act in any way that I haven't instructed. You know me and know that I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. Right?"
When his finger moved, I said, "Yeah. I guess."
