Opening my eyes, I can’t help but smile. Rolling over, my arms reach out to cuddle Jackson but there is just empty space. My mind races forward, memories of yesterday plaguing me. What have I done? My head hurts so much, but not as much as my heart: that is now in pieces. I can’t see a way to fix it, a way to fix anything.  Jackson’s offer is in my mind, the one about taking a stand and telling me I have a decision to make. It is his way to give me both of them, yet I don’t feel right agreeing, not at all.  It would be like saying our marriage means nothing, yet it does.  I hate this! I hate what they have done to me! They have destroyed me just by giving me love. Now the result is three broken hearts, a fucked-up situation and destruction. How can this ever be fixed? How can I walk away from one knowing I’ll be killing the other? I can’t do that, yet I have to. I have to find a way to choose but I don’t want to. Tears start to fall. That’s all

Walking through the door, I find him standing waiting. Walking to him, my arms wrap around his neck. Kissing his lips and pulling him to me, his hands grab me, pulling me tightly towards him, my moans escaping. “I don’t want Marcus. I just want you. I don’t want anyone else in the room, just you. I can’t believe I never realised it before. Everything you did was for me, not you. That fucking punishment this morning was for me not you. I am doing this for you. I am choosing right now: no Marcus. I can live without him; I cannot live without you, Jackson.” He looks hurt. His face is filled with pain, his eyes looking at the door. Following his gaze, I see Marcus standing there. Everything, all the feelings for him, flood through me. I feel awful. He walks out. Following him, I stop him by the car. “I am sorry. You were right. I will never leave Jackson for you. That does not mean I don’t love you. I do, but not enough, Marcus. I am sorry. I really am.” This is

The car door opens. Looking up, I see Marcus has climbed into the passenger seat. “I know Jackson enough that he wouldn’t want you going alone after that letter. I am coming with you. I won’t talk. Christ, Alena, I won’t even look at you.” His eyes are fixed forward. I don’t think I can do this. The car is too small. All the emotions flood back. I can feel the tears building in my eyes. Concentrate, Alena. Drive and concentrate. Maybe I should give up and go shopping another day? But honestly, when it is Christmas in seven days, I can’t escape it. I need to go shopping. Pulling out of the drive, he stays quiet. The whole drive is too quiet. I can’t stand it. “So, what is your plan now then?” My question is almost silent. I can’t act like he isn’t in the car with me. As hard as it is to talk to him, I can’t do it. “Well, after Christmas I am going out on missions with the team, just going to get away for a bit.” I want to argue, tell him no and

He looks at Marcus and then at me. “Are you okay discussing this in front of others?” Why would he ask that? Then again, why wouldn’t he? He has no idea what I am about to say yet. “Yes, it is fine.” I nod. Marcus can stay. Plus, he will need to be questioned no doubt as well. “Okay, so please tell me what your relationship is with Roxy.”  Sitting now, I don’t know what to say. What is or was our relationship? Casual sex, hookups? What would you call it? “I am not sure. I would say we were friends, but we also slept together during that time.” That sounds weird, and while I can see he is intrigued, he stays dignified and continues writing. “How do you know Jake?” An easy question, one I can answer with ease. “He was a friend. I grew up with him, but we are no longer friends.” That is something that makes me the saddest about this whole thing: Jake was a friend and I lost such a good friend because of it all.

Jumping, I would have fallen forward without the chain. The whip hits my ass, making me moan. That is why he has the lead held tight. When he whipped me, my body flew forward. If he didn’t have hold, I would have gone. Moaning, I stay bent over, waiting. His silence makes the anticipation higher. I feel myself slowly slip into my subspace, my mind clearing of everything.  Jumping from the sting of the whip, I moan. I can’t help but smile, knowing that just a few rooms away his favourite whip is waiting to be opened.  The whip continues to hit, my moans growing as they get harder. My mind reminds me of the cameras. As panic rises inside me at the thought of people watching, it is quickly muted as the rest of me craves it, craves knowing what they would do with me, and what they were thinking about watching me.  His whip hits again, hard. Moaning, I almost fall forward again, the collar holding me in place.  His hand strokes up my back, the