Chapter Twenty-Eight

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"Have you two set a date yet?" My mother asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

Kalob spoke on my behalf, which I was silently grateful for. "We're still talking it out."

I took a drink of my own coffee, crossing my legs. My parents had invited us over for a game night, which didn't happen often. Dad had brought in board games from the shed, Mom set up a spread of fruits and cheese, and Etan invited Kelly. She was incredibly sweet, and bubbly, almost the opposite of Etan. Blonde hair, brown eyes, average height, and a good personality from what I could tell. I approved of the choice, and smirked at the little mop head when I met her. He acted awkwardly until we got into some of the games, but I couldn't blame him; introducing a girlfriend to this family was dangerous.

Kalob placed his hand on my knee, pulling my attention back to the room, and reminding me that it was my turn. I looked down at my color assorted trains, and decided to draw another two cards, hoping for either a red or rainbow train. Getting neither, I placed them down. "I'm done," I stated, watching as Dad took his turn.

"You two are getting married?" Kelly exclaimed, "Congratulations! That has to be so exciting!"

Looking down at my ring, I forced a smile on my lips before giving Kelly my attention. "Yeah,  it's definitely exciting."

We continued in a comfortable pattern of light conversation and playful competition. I wanted to be content with this. I wanted to want this— game nights with the parents, marriage to Kalob, kids with him, but I wasn't. I couldn't contain the desire for the excitement of Mallory. The other evening still played in my head, like a movie screening.

"Are you ready?" She whispered, standing over me with my tropical candle and the burning wick.

My lip was between my teeth, and my stomach contracted. Nervous was an understatement, but I willed myself to relax, knowing that Mallory wouldn't intentionally hurt me, and if I was in too much pain, I could safeword. This was okay, or at least it would be. Letting my eyes slip shut, I curled my fingers into the bedding beneath me and nodded my head.

"I need to hear you, Esme. Are you ready?" Her voice was stern, but so soft and laced with concern. I couldn't stop my heart from racing.

I drew my tongue over my lips slowly. "Yes, Miss." It was getting harder to breath, harder to speak. My throat was dry, and the room filled with electric, prickling against me.

Mallory placed her free hand on my head, scratching the top of my scalp with her nails, and while I was slightly distracted, the candle tipped. Blue wax dripped on my stomach. My skin seared for a moment, but with the absence of the flame, the wax hardened, and the pain was nonexistent. It felt as if I were standing too close to a camp fire and the heat tingled your skin, but as soon as I stepped away, the pain dissolved as the air soothed it away. I sucked in a breath, and brought my hand to the cooled wax, feeling the filmy layer merged on my skin.

My eyes cracked open, and blue orbs peered down at me, amusement and concern written all over Mallory's face. "It wasn't too bad," I whispered, smiling up at my mistress.

She repeated what I said, a smile forming on her own lips. "Would you like it again?"

"Yes."

"Ask."

I put my hands back to my side and pushed out my chest. "May I please have more, Miss?"

She flashed her teeth, "You may," and tipped the candle again.

Wax fell on my chest, dripping against the  tops of my breasts. I gasped, rolling my hips and flattening my back into the comforter. As soon as the wax dried, sharp nails dig underneath it, peeling it off my skin. I watched Mallory's manicured nails peel every drop, putting it back into the candle to melt once more. My skin was pink, still heated where the wax had cooled, but it didn't hurt.

"What do you say, Esme?"

Redirecting my attention, I stated at Mallory and leaned up, pressing my lips against hers. "Thank you, Miss," I mumbled, savoring the taste of her lips.

She responded slowly, barely moving against me until we pulled apart. When we did, the older woman glanced at my alarm clock, then back to me. "I need to leave." Her voice was short and curt. "Ted's expecting me home soon."

I nodded, getting off the bed without further persuasion, and reclothing myself. Mallory did the same. We moved in silence until we were done, and soon enough, I was in my apartment alone, waiting for Kalob to come over, and wishing it was Mallory.

"Babe?"

"Babe?"

"Esme!"

I whipped my neck around, meeting Kalob's wide-eyes with my own. "What?" I snapped, louder than necessary, and as soon as I saw his hurt reaction, I felt bad. Or, worse.

"Your phone's blowing up," he muttered, handing me my phone. "Apparently Mallory's trying to get ahold of you."

Snatching it from his hand, I unlocked it, glancing at the numerous texts and missed call. "Did you read it?"

"Why would I?"

I shook my head, standing up from the table and forgetting all about the audience we had watching, "I don't know, but I need to take this," and I excused myself, rushing to the bathroom and locking the door behind me.

Call me please.

We need to talk.

Esme, this is serious.

You're three seconds away from a punishment.

Forget it. We'll discuss this tomorrow. Be at the office at 8, and bring your copy of the contract.

I redialed her number, hoping that Mallory would answer her phone, that I hadn't missed her. The dial tone rang until I got voicemail.

"This is Mallory Morgan. Leave your name and a short message and I'll get back to you when I can, or you can set up an appointment in my office. Thank you!"

"Hey," I muttered, sitting on the toilet lid. "I'm sorry I missed your call. I'll do better at answering next time, I promise. I'm getting better though." I exhaled, running my fingers through my hair. "But I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll bring my contract, like you said, and I'll, um, wear something easy to take on and off in case my uh punishment needs it. So, uh, bye."

I slid my phone into my pocket, and couldn't help but stare down at the ring on my finger. My stomach churned. I didn't want this. I wanted to, but I couldn't. A new fire lit up my core, and I walked out of the room, storming into the dining room where my family was waiting.

"There ya' are, bug," my dad chuckled.

I frowned at him before glancing at my mother, and then Kalob. "Excuse us." Reaching out, I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen.

His hair was shaggy, almost looking dirty, except I knew that he had just showered before we left. His eyes were gleaming, but mouth and eyebrows set in a confused line. My stomach flipped again, and I breathed in to calm my nerves. I had to do this.

Mumbling an "I'm sorry", I pulled off my engagement ring, feeling it run over both knuckles and nail. I placed the meaningless metal in a strong hand, but I couldn't bear looking at him. I knew Kalob would be confused—heartbroken—and I wouldn't be able to see that in his eyes. I'd get lost, and I'd apologize, and I'd end up taking the ring back.

"Esme."

His voice cracked, soft and hurt. It was a tone I hadn't heard since his grandfather died—endless tears and sleepless nights spent consoling him. I remembered forcing him to eat something, anything really, calling his boss because he was too much of a mess, and laying in bed rubbing his back. It was too much, and I knew my resolve would crack too if I didn't leave.

Meeting his gaze, I licked my lips. "I can't." I felt tears begin to cloud my vision, but not before I could see the realization flash in brown orbs.

And I ran.

I ran out of the house and to the garage, grabbing my shoes and thankful that my bicycle from high school was still there. Mounting it, I rode away, not bothering to glance back at home in fear of seeing Kalob, or anyone trying to stop me. The bitter air cut against my skin, burning me. The tears that had threatened my eyes earlier spilled over, sticking to my cheeks. My chest heaved and strained, my cheeks were stung pink. I screamed until my lungs burned, filling the neighborhood with echos of frustration and sadness.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, but I ignored it, not stopping until I reached my apartment. I left the bike on the cement, and felt up my person in search of my keys. It hadn't occurred to me that I had left them at my parents. Thankful and shivering, I went to the nearest window, pushed up the screen and glass, and crawled in.

The apartment was warmer, but my skin refused to revert back to body temperature when everything inside of me felt cold and the only thing I could think of was Kalob's face when I gave the ring back. I sunk against the wall, leaving the window open. I brought my knees to my chest and waited—for what, I wasn't sure.

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