Simon It's been a week. A whole agonizing week of trying to find Marcus. I have been camping at the police precinct, driving paul and his colleagues crazy, but it seems like Marcus has just disappeared into thin air. I have searched everywhere I can think of and tried to identify any john doe picked up within a close radius of me but nothing. Paul keeps telling me not to worry too much and that they will find him, but hope is dwindling as the days pass. I am deep in thoughts when I get a text message. I have taken to coming to the office for a few hours before my ritual visit to the precinct because I want to avoid the house. Everything in my house reminds me of him. Every time I enter the kitchen, all I see is him making me breakfast or cleaning or doing a million and one things that he does that I didn't even know needed to be done, every time I open a drawer to get something and I don't find it where I thought it should be, I am reminded again of how much Marcus has changed my lif
Marcus There are fates worse than death, and I was relieving it every day for the last, I don’t know how long. My life has turned into a nightmare that I can’t seem to wake up from, and I can’t end it because I don’t have the necessary tools to do so. If one could wish themselves dead, I would have gladly done so. David is currently out. I think, I can never tell, but I am glad for the reprieve. My life has changed so much; I miss Simon, his safety, our life…. I wish I could go back to before all this. My memories of our time together are the only reason I am still hanging on. It’s my escape from this horrible experience. I hear a key rattle somewhere, and I tense up. I don’t know how I still have any reactions, considering all I have gone through and everything he has done to me, but i still do. My body is beyond broken, and pain has become my constant companion. My stomach growls. I can’t remember the last time I ate; sometimes he feeds me, sometimes he forgets or doesn’t care. M
FIVE YEARS LATER Simon This damn leg won't give me peace. I massage it slowly, wishing I was home, wrapped in a duvet in front of my electric fireplace. I hate the cold now. Since the explosion five years ago, I have had an injury that makes the cold unbearable. Usually, I can ignore it, but sometimes I need something stronger than Ibuprofen. Other than the dull pain in my leg, the ache in my heart has also never gone away; the part of my heart reserved for Marcus hasn't healed or moved on. My mind wonders as it's wont to do, and I find myself reliving the past. I had woken up in hospital a week after the explosion. According to the police, a gas leak had been the cause of the accident. They had found the remains of only one person, and dental records had confirmed it was David. There had been nothing left to confirm what had happened to Marcus. After months of searching, the police had concluded that David must have killed him and disposed of the body elsewhere. It was so devasta
Marcus The view never failed to soothe me. The vast skyline of New York and the false quietness from my perch on the window of my 55th-floor office were something that never got old. I sigh not with frustration but with resignation. When I reinvented myself, I hadn't quite imagined my life would turn out this way. Sure the designer suits were great, and the expensive penthouse and the business was doing great; who would have thought I had it in me to start a successful business? I had started a PR firm which, with enough capital and clever marketing, had taken off beyond my imagination. The Pitch was the most sort after PR firm by brands, struggling politicians, and A-list celebrities. I had carefully created a persona as the elusive, mysterious CEO who abhorred the limelight despite working in PR. Surrounding myself with the right staff that was young, vibrant, and exceptional at their job had made mine infinitely easier. I had achieved a level of success I had never dreamt of
Simon I grab my phone. I don’t actually think the ping will be for my Marcus. I have learned in the past few years that there were a considerable number of people named Marcus Button or a variation of the name, and occasionally they did things that made an appearance on the web. I swipe up the screen and almost fall over from shock when Marcus stares moodily back at me. I can’t believe I finally found him! after years of combing the internet, the gods have finally answered my prayer. I quickly click on the story and am immediately disappointed by the scant information.I skim quickly, taking in the fact that this is my Marcus, who, by the way, looks completely different yet the same. His clothes look expensive and fit him perfectly; his hair which in my mind will always be long and wild is styled in those expensive haircuts that give him the aura of a fashion model. But the biggest change is his face and demeanor; gone was the shy look and unsure posture, and in its place was a hard
MarcusIt's been a few days since the party, and my phone hasn't stopped ringing from hosts wanting me to show up at their events. This is exactly why I avoided this types of events because then people feel entitled to your time. I stopped picking it up and put it on silent mode so I could concentrate on the job at hand. I am sifting through the company emails. Usually, I let my secretary handle them, but Cindy had needed a day off to go to the dentist, and I know how they pile if not dealt with. I am going through the fifth or sixth email when one email header catches my eye. Lost and found boyfriend? My breath quicken, and my hands shake as I hover the cursor over the email. I take a deep breath and click. I force my eyes to scan the email, and my heart falls to the pit of my stomach. I can feel the familiar start of a panic attack; it has been a while since I have had them, and it takes me a minute to remember how to breathe and ride through it. After what feels like hours, I can
Marcus The number of times I have refreshed my email is not healthy, and I am surprised I have not broken my keyboard with the many frustrated clicks. It’s been a few days since I sent the email, and while I didn’t think the reply would be instantaneous, I still didn’t think it would take days! But checking all the news on Marcus’s company, I can see how busy he can be juggling celebrities, athletes, politicians, and brands. It’s almost hard to imagine my shy broken Marcus was responsible for this huge successful entity. Still, a large part of me is so proud that he overcame his issues enough to put himself out there and leave such a huge mark in the world. When my email pings, I am buried in financial reports, and I barely glance at the computer until I see the name on the screen. I click on the email, and my breath stutters. You always find me, don’t you? Even when I did not know, I was lost. Come see me. We have a lot to talk about, and I have much to explain. You are constantl
Marcus It's so annoying when people don't look where they are going. I collect my documents, ready to give the idiot a piece of my mind, and I freeze. I must be hallucinating because I am staring at Simon in the flesh. Simon is here in my office. I move as if compelled, and in a flash I am in his arms. I hold on to him because I really need to make sure it was him and he was really here. Someone whimpers and he squeezes me harder, so I must have made the sound. He feels like home; I have missed him, the familiar feel of my face burrowed in his neck, the smell of him, and suddenly it's overwhelming, and I can't breathe. It's like my body has forgotten how to inhale and exhale. I gasp for breath, and now I am struggling to take a full breath. Simon lets goes of me as he notices I am trying struggling: he curses under his breath and guides me away from the crowd forming in the hallway. "Shit I had forgotten about the panic attacks. I am so sorry babe I should have warned you I was
Simon Epilogue Six months Later "No kiss for the house husband? I will burn your dinner. " Marcus laughs as he kisses my cheek first, then full on mouth kiss that he pulls away from as just as it starts to heat up. "But you always burn my dinner! “he says as he picks his office bag, ready to start his day. I fake pout. "I do not! Yesterday it turned out fine!" I tell him haughtily. "Of course it turned out okay Lilyann helped" he looks up from the watch he is trying to put on and holds his hand out to me. "Help!" he grins at me. I roll my eyes at him but help him put it on. "For your information, lilyann supervised I did all the cooking. "You mean you put all the ingredients she prepared into the slow cooker he says with a wink. Before I can, respond appropriately he kisses me again. “I still love you husband even if you can't cook. I smile at that though I have no idea how he caught on that Lilyann our chef who comes in three days a week to prevent us from ordering
Simon I am physically and mentally exhausted. It's been a long morning and waiting at the airport make it seems even longer. When we had gone to bed last night my mind had already been made up that I would leave, but leaving Marcus sleeping peacefully in bed had been more painful and harder than I had anticipated. I had packed the few things I had unpacked after leaving the hotel and wrote that wretched note. Maybe I should have just left, but that would have been cruel. I couldn't let him go through what I had gone through when I thought he was dead. At Airport it had been a nightmare trying to reschedule my flight. The closest time I could leave was in five hours so I had no choice but to sit and wait and wait and think and over think. I had second guessed myself a few times and even almost left at one point but every time I remember how exciting Marcus new life was I remembered why it was important to leave. I feel like an old relic left behind out of date and useless. What w
Marcus I am the first to wake up from our after sex nap. From the light illuminating the windows it's probably midday by now. I should get some work done as I haven't been to the office in days, but I can't seem to be able to tear my eyes from the man lying next to me with his right hand covering his face one knee bent and covers strewn all over barely covering him as he slept peacefully. I smile at how sweet he looks; I trace his exposed skin with my fingers until I pause at the exposed thigh where a huge scar mars his beautiful skin. It had taken everything in me not to flinch or linger when I had seen it earlier. I knew at some level that he didn't leave the incident unscathed but seeing the evidence so stark made my stomach queasy. I trace the scars softly almost reverently. I startle when he Places his hand on mine and I look up, he eyes me warily. "I am so sorry".... I say as I lean over to kiss the scars as I had wanted to earlier. His breath hitches and he freezes for
Simon I was having a delicious dream, a warm mouth was wrapped around my cock and was gently sucking and lapping at it, the pleasure so exquisite that I instinctively thrust my hips an answering moan that vibrates all the way to my spine tightening my balls has my eyes fly open clearly this is not a dream. Marcus is at the foot of the bed with his mouth ensconced in my hardened cock; my underwear is trapped around my ankles. His right is kneading my balls while his left is laid on my now almost non existence abs I feel a twinge of self consciousness creep in. "What are you doing?" I ask in a strangled voice, trying hard not to arch my back. He releases my cock with a loud pop, and licks his lips lewdly. "If you can't tell what I am doing, then either you are blind or I am doing it all wrong," he says with a smirk. I snort at him and pull him to me. "What I mean, you brat is while I appreciate the eerhm... Sexy wake-up call. It’s not necessary baby you didn't have to return the ges
Marcus This scene is so achingly familiar. Me, lying in bed completely sated while Simon cleans me up then cuddles up with me. I sigh with the rightness of it. I haven't been touched by anyone else since...the incident and I hadn't wanted to; maybe a part of me always knew I belong to only one man. My mind drifts to our earlier conversation about supplies. Did he just mean lube or condoms as well? Does that mean he has been seeing other people, my chest constricts painfully and I swallow the raising bile. The need to know coils deep within me but I don't know how to ask him. I have no right to feel angry or jealous because I am the one who left and he has every right to seek comfort elsewhere right? My head knows that but my heart? "Hey are you ok"? Simon's murmurs in my hair he is already drifting I shake my head and snuggle closer.“I am fine. Just really glad you are here...his body heat lures me to sleep and in no time I drift off as well. "Morning sunshine" I blink awa
SimonI pour a glass for both of us and sit back. I move up the bed and lean on the sturdy bed frame. Marcus follows suit, and we sit beside each other, sipping our wine. What Marcus had shared with me was a lot to digest. I know he skimmed over the gory details of his torture and I was grateful he spared me the details because otherwise, I don’t know what to do with the impotent fury I feel whenever I think about what David did. I feel responsible; if it wasn't for me, they wouldn't have met, and he wouldn't have suffered at the hands of that sadistic bastard. I wish he had let me know he was fine, and I was still hurt he hadn't, but I also understood where he was coming from. His mental state had been fragile when David took him, and I can't even begin to imagine what damage the suffering and torture had wrought on him. He looks so strong now, and I am immensely proud of him. Looking at him now, it frightens me that I have nothing to offer him anymore, and that thought shames me. Bec
Marcus A gentle knock jolts me back from my wondering mind. Cindy pops in with a cup of coffee. “Are you ok Boss?” She asks concern written all over her face. “Yes I am fine, I just got an unexpected visitors is all. Please cancel anything that you can today I will finish up with the Mueller account and zoom call with the Santiago Group” “On it boss’ she leaves me to my work which I am having a hard time concentrating on my whole focus was on the man that just up ended my whole life, who was now waiting for me in a hotel room. I rush through all I needed to do grateful for my earlier throrough work. I couldn’t rush the zoom meeting though and I sat through an hour of excruciatingly boring and frustrating meeting. On a normal day I would have enjoyed the back and forth but todayit just grated on my nerves I just wantedto be done so I can go to Simon I had this maybe irrational fear that he would disappear on me and after everything I had put him through including my very emba
Marcus It's so annoying when people don't look where they are going. I collect my documents, ready to give the idiot a piece of my mind, and I freeze. I must be hallucinating because I am staring at Simon in the flesh. Simon is here in my office. I move as if compelled, and in a flash I am in his arms. I hold on to him because I really need to make sure it was him and he was really here. Someone whimpers and he squeezes me harder, so I must have made the sound. He feels like home; I have missed him, the familiar feel of my face burrowed in his neck, the smell of him, and suddenly it's overwhelming, and I can't breathe. It's like my body has forgotten how to inhale and exhale. I gasp for breath, and now I am struggling to take a full breath. Simon lets goes of me as he notices I am trying struggling: he curses under his breath and guides me away from the crowd forming in the hallway. "Shit I had forgotten about the panic attacks. I am so sorry babe I should have warned you I was
Marcus The number of times I have refreshed my email is not healthy, and I am surprised I have not broken my keyboard with the many frustrated clicks. It’s been a few days since I sent the email, and while I didn’t think the reply would be instantaneous, I still didn’t think it would take days! But checking all the news on Marcus’s company, I can see how busy he can be juggling celebrities, athletes, politicians, and brands. It’s almost hard to imagine my shy broken Marcus was responsible for this huge successful entity. Still, a large part of me is so proud that he overcame his issues enough to put himself out there and leave such a huge mark in the world. When my email pings, I am buried in financial reports, and I barely glance at the computer until I see the name on the screen. I click on the email, and my breath stutters. You always find me, don’t you? Even when I did not know, I was lost. Come see me. We have a lot to talk about, and I have much to explain. You are constantl