Author's note:
Hello Readers,
I'm so pleased you're back to read the final, final installment of Isabelle's Awakening. This is my last submission to Literotica due to a desire to try my hand at self-publishing. However, I felt I owed my loyal readers one more round of Isabelle and Dillon before moving on. Thank you all for the love, feedback, and support you have shown since I began writing here so many years ago. Enjoy!
Jp Grace
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Isabelle sat at the kitchen table wrapped in her robe and glared at the website in frustration. Dillon's eyes mocked her from his picture. It wasn't fair. She was stronger than this. Unfortunately, she could only lie to herself for so long and staying glued to her laptop hoping he would contact her didn't do much to dispel that lie.
She snapped the lid closed with a decisive click. Enough torture for one day, it was time to get a move on.
Sipping her coffee, she tried to focus her attention on her schedule but it was pointless, her mind kept returning to Dillon and last night's dream. She was still shaken from the rapacious nature of their shared nightly sojourns. His presence in her bed and mind were impossible to ignore.
But it was silly of her to wish for contact now when she had been the one to run away six months ago.
Jesus, she had never experienced anything like that before and wasn't sure she wanted to again. No, that wasn't true; she did, but icy talons of fear held her in their terrible grasp.
Being with Dillon was terrifying and exhilarating. But what would it cost her? She had sold her soul for what she thought was love before and look how well that had turned out; separated from her husband and on the road to a divorce they had both agreed to. Her kids, when they deigned to visit, refused to spend more than a day or two at her new house. What time they were here was spent trying their best to avoid her or yelling at her. Not that she blamed them. She deserved their anger. Anger, however, wasn't going to heal their family.
Her husband felt differently. She had told him what happened and he had immediately and loudly asked her to leave their home. The guilt kept her from fighting for him or their marriage. Besides, she knew it was over. How could she ever be with him after Dillon? The answer was she couldn't and it wouldn't be fair to pretend otherwise.
Now she was alone for the first time in her life except for her German Shepherd, Lacy. Strangely, she didn't mind it, but she missed her family desperately. She missed the hugs of her children, the sloppy piles of dirty clothes, dishes in the sink, and the accompanying noises that came with a full house.
Needing an outlet, she filled her time with work. Since her only skills had been heavy in the mother department and light on actual outside work experience, she had decided to offer her services as a sort of helpmate to anyone who would pay her a decent hourly rate.
She had tacked up flyers at all the local grocery stores, laundry mats, senior centers, and community centers she could find, often coming home sweaty and exhausted. At long last, her efforts were starting to pay off.
Within a week the calls had started. At first, it seemed as if they were only curious, but then she got a few jobs, then a few more each subsequent week until she had no choice but to hire an assistant.
Francine, a young retiree, worked two days a week and was as sweet as they came. Their older customers loved her and frequently requested her for jobs. Isabelle understood their affection, as Francine was a fantastic cook with a warm, generous heart who often brought samples of her labors in the kitchen to Isabelle and their clients.
Since the work she performed was relatively simple, she had no need for a formal office space and had adopted a battered dining room table as her base of operations. Some customers wanted meals prepared, others wanted their laundry washed and folded. Older customers tended to need the most care but mostly wanted the companionship she and Francine offered. She ran errands, went grocery shopping and picked up after people. It was what she had always known, except now the family she picked up after was a hodgepodge of customers, her lone employee, and Lacy.
Still, she didn't regret it. Of course she regretted the pain she had caused her family but somehow, someway, she knew she would have been in this very same place at this very same time regardless of whether Dillon had entered her life or not. Maybe her intuition was stronger since "linking" with Dillon but her gut told her it was true. She wished she could have done it differently and spared her kids and husband pain, but it couldn't be changed. All she could do was move forward and hope they would forgive her in time. Judging by their non-existent relationship as it stood right now, it was going to take a long time.
When not absorbed with work, she was obsessed with learning all she could about telepathy, specifically, how to stop it. After reading page after page of dry research papers, she still wasn't sure that was what she and Dillon shared, especially since six months had passed and she hadn't felt or heard any thoughts in her head except her own. If it wasn't for the dreams that haunted her every night, she could almost believe none of it had happened.
God, the dreams. Every night he appeared in her dreams and she was powerless to stop it. It was stalking at its worst and best. Escape wasn't possible. Hiding physically was easy in comparison to hiding her mind from a man who could reach her at all times if she wasn't guarding against it. And at night her mind escaped the restraints she put on it during the daylight hours and roamed freely.
Some nights the dreams were innocent, a silken caress on the cheek, a soft kiss placed just so at the side of her mouth; other times they were violent in their obsession and need. The dreams were also his way of marking her as his. That much she knew. There was no mistaking the decidedly avaricious nature of his thoughts during the night. Most of the time she woke tangled in the sheets, her skin slicked with sweat, and Dillon firmly in her head.
No distinct thoughts presented themselves though, just hunger so thick it coursed through her veins like old motor oil, slow to clear and harder still to get rid of. Not that she cared if he no longer talked to her via their thoughts, she didn't. It was just odd the connection they had had vanished like a puff of smoke the minute she walked away. Was their connection only viable when in close proximity? She had no clear way to test that theory as she had no clue where Dillon was and his website hadn't offered any clues. She wasn't sure if he was two miles away or a thousand.
Looking back, it all seemed rather ridiculous. They had communicated without speaking....with their minds for crying out loud! Isabelle shook her head. It seemed so surreal. She had spent quite a bit of time questioning her sanity since and no amount of reading up on the subject made her feel any better about the whole experience.
It didn't matter. She had to focus on what she
had
learned and more importantly, her future. Months of research had taught her the necessary skills to close off her mind when or if she should ever meet Dillon again. Part of her hoped she never had to put those newfound skills to the test and yet deep down she yearned to feel his touch again. The fact remained Dillon had a strong hold on her and coming face to face to him after what they had shared would be taxing in her current state of mind.
Sighing, Isabelle swallowed the last of her coffee and rinsed her mug before heading to her room to change into a light summer dress and flip flops; dressing how she wanted was another perk that came with being her own boss. She grabbed her bag and list of things to do and headed to her car. Time to get on with her future.
It was going to be a busy day judging by the seven a.m. phone call from Mr. Heidelman, a peculiar older gentleman, who had requested her services for the first time this morning. He had protested the cost at first but once past that hurdle had complained because she couldn't get there fast enough. Because he was a new customer who happened to live in a large senior development, she had rearranged her schedule to accommodate him and was scheduled to arrive shortly after noon. That was the ultimate beauty of having her own business, the flexibility to do what she wanted, when she wanted.
Threading her way through the usual early traffic, Isabelle went to her morning appointments, doing laundry for Mrs. Slathe, running Mr. Doldre to the grocery store and picking up prescriptions for several others.
When she finally arrived at Mr. Heidelman's modest brick house, it was well past noon and she was starved. He lived in a standard senior development with small cottages, duplexes and larger free standing homes scattered around an emerald green golf course dotted with expensive carts and rich seniors. Lots of rich seniors.
She smiled in satisfaction. This could be an extremely lucrative place of business.
She gathered her belongings and walked to the door.
She knocked and heard a gruff bellow from inside directing her to come in.
