Dear Readers,
What can I say about the lovely support you have all shown me, especially given the infrequent updates between chapters? I can't tell you how surprised and gratified I was to see one of my chapters earned recognition for winning a monthly contest! You are all wonderful for coming on this ride and suspending your disbelief. Thank you for your patience, too. I'm not sure if people believed that the last chapter was the end, but I can assure you there is a long way to go before I'd be happy with leaving James, Cecilia, Abe, and Clara. I'll remind people that the author doesn't sanction or condone anything done to another person without their consent.
Xoxo
PoeticLicense
*****
James's final performances in America were a triumph. He knew that Cecilia's presence—in his life and in the audience—made those subtle but important differences to his playing. Even Roger stopped complaining about the opportunities lost due to Natasha, and started angling for solo recording deals. When James floated the idea of original compositions, Roger hedged; "No promises James, but I'll see what I can do. Those performances were just the ticket. Name the places and I'll be able to book you for concerts."
That was good news, and so James felt ready to leave America. The entire week he'd been steeling himself for the possibility that Cecilia might want to remain in the states after all.
He agonized over this in the early morning on his way to the nearest pharmacy to pick up Plan B. Cecilia was awake when he returned to the hotel. He handed her the package and a glass of water; she looked embarrassed, but only said, "thank you."
"Not at all. Least I could do, really. I shouldn't have been so careless." James started packing the last of his personal items away in his suitcase.
"You weren't the only one. I hadn't planned on any of this, but I knew better too."
James didn't like the self-recriminating tone in her voice. He paused in his packing and looked up. "We'll sort that out as soon as we're back in London."
Cecilia gave a small smile and nodded, relieved that he didn't make her feel dirty or awkward.
***
James insisted on lugging Cecilia's carry-on bag for her at the airport.
"I'm ready to be home," James admitted. He'd been away for months and the rapid pace of his last few performances up the American east coast cured him of his itchy feet. "How about you?"
"Me too," Cecilia said easily. "Not that this hasn't been a lovely, if unexpected trip. But I'm ready to have a home-cooked meal and see Clara and Abe. It's hard to keep this a secret from them."
"They'll be very surprised," James agreed as they boarded the British Airways jet. It amazed him that Cecilia showed no trepidation about leaving the States, but he wasn't about to question his luck.
It was nice to have a traveling companion on this last leg of his journey. His trip had been isolating in many ways until his rendezvous with Cecilia in Philadelphia. He noticed Cecilia's discomfort during takeoff and squeezed her hand in his own. After the plane leveled off and the cabin pressure stabilized, Cecilia turned her attention back to James. "We're really heading back? To London, I mean?"
"Yes. You're okay with that?" James asked. Now that they were in the air, it was safe to voice his doubt.
"I am. I just can't believe it. I never thought—never dreamed... that you'd be part of my future."
"I want to be, if you'll let me; it's you're choice."
"Of course, I want you to be."
James's eyes turned very serious, which made Cecilia's heart skip a beat. "You know you can change your mind, right? Do you feel I've forced you into anything?"
Cecilia looked bewildered at his question, so he continued.
"I don't want you to feel like I was your only choice."
"What do you mean?"
James considered his words. "Your apartment . . . I didn't want to leave you there, I admit that. I didn't realize where you lived was so . . . rough. I wouldn't blame you if you only wanted to stay with me to get away from that—but, I can set you up, if—"
"Stop." It was the first time Cecilia had ever cut him off. "Stop talking that way. I didn't have a place as nice as yours, but after such a narrow escape, do you think I'd give myself over to you if it wasn't something I wanted?" She was upset that the sincerity of her choice was in doubt. "It's not about apartments or money, James."
He'd insulted her. It was the last thing he wanted to do. "I just don't want you to be with me because it's the path of least resistance. I can set you up with your own place—somewhere safe—and let you decide if this is something you want." James hated this suggestion, but knew it was the chivalrous thing to do.
Cecilia didn't like that suggestion either. She touched the ribbon on her neck. "Don't you still want me?"
Oh God, her mother's voice had been right.
James squeezed her hand. "I do. God knows, I do."
"Then why are you changing your mind now?"
James thought that waiting until they were in the air would help him avoid such a question. "I'm not changing my mind Cecilia. But, it would be very easy for someone to use your trauma against you. You were introduced to the lifestyle—to me even—in the worst imaginable way, and now I'm the scoundrel who's reaped the benefits of your misfortune."
"How can you say that?"
"Because it's true. You don't know what a healthy relationship looks like. Especially, not a relationship like ours."
Cecilia had stopped blinking in her anger, and now tears were threatening to spill, tugging at James's heartstrings.
"Cecilia, we're on a jet, flying over the Atlantic, headed back home. I want you. I should have discussed this with you before now, but I've been selfish. I've already behaved poorly. You deserve full disclosure."
"I've had full disclosure. Please don't change your mind."
"I won't. But I need you to know you're allowed to change yours. At any time. For any reason. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir."
"Good. Do you still want me to show you what a relationship like ours is supposed to look like?"
"I do, Sir." Cecilia's eyes stopped tearing and she felt calmed just by uttering the words.
James brushed away an errant tear. "Good girl. Relax. Nothing is wrong. You're not in trouble."
Cecilia gave a weak smile.
During the flight James occasionally asked Cecilia about her like and dislikes when it came to their play. He explained they were her "limits." He had his own. Limits were to be respected at all times. He shared that he refused to engage in anything that broke the skin or drew blood. He had little to no interest in having multiple partners either. She agreed and told him that she also didn't care for blindfolds, but was very receptive to bondage.
"Even if you feel okay with bondage know, if you feel unsafe or want me to free you, you have every right to use your safeword. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir."
"One day, we'll test your limits, either intentionally or inadvertently. So I need to know you'll use it. I don't want to push you that far right now. I want to give you the gentleness and affection you didn't have in your initiation. But if, for some reason, you feel scared or triggered, I need to know. Do you understand why that's important?"
"I do. I promise."
"Good. Then we'll say no more about it for now. I'm sure I've given you enough to think over."
"Enough and then some," she agreed.
