My throat is tight and my mouth is dry. What will I find here, and will it change everything? I don’t have to go far to confirm that Valerie was telling the truth. “Oh my God,” I whisper. Flynn’s playroom is bigger and even more elaborate than Hayden’s. There are numerous pieces of equipment, one of them an S-shaped chaise that I didn’t see on any of the sites I visited online.
Like in Hayden’s room, ropes fall from the ceiling and a row of paddles in various sizes as well as floggers and whips hang from a pegboard on the wall. I don’t bother to cross the room to the armoire because I already know what I’ll find inside.
I’ve seen more than enough to know the truth about my husband and his true preferences. Half-expecting to find him waiting for me, I trudge up the stairs, my mind whirling as I relive every moment we’ve spent together and every sexual encounter. I’ve been blown away by our physical connection. I thought he was, too. But is he only pretending to be satisfied while wishing for so much more than his broken wife can give him?
I turn off the light, lock the door and return the key to the hook in the kitchen. There’s no way I’ll sleep, so I fix myself a cup of hot chocolate and take it to the sofa. I’m so far out of my league with this situation that I don’t know how to begin to wrap my mind around it.
Over the course of the next few hours, I sit in the darkness and dissect every minute, every second, every conversation, every caress, every word that has passed between us. There were clues, here and there, little things that didn’t make sense at the time, but in this new context, I realize they were red flags that I missed. Such as his insistence on a safe word, which is a mainstay of the BDSM lifestyle. I recall something he once said: “I’ve been with a lot of women. Probably too many. I’ve kissed them and fucked them and done things with them you’d no doubt find distasteful at best, objectionable at worst.”
Is this what he meant by objectionable? I never suspected my husband was a dominant or that he participated in things so far outside my realm of understanding I wouldn’t have recognized them if they slapped me in the face.
Among all those moments we spent together were the ones in which I’d bared my soul to him, sharing my painful past and bringing him into my life. I have been closer to him in the few weeks we’ve spent together than I’ve been to anyone in my life. He knows me in ways that no one else ever has.
While I was giving him everything, he was lying to me about who and what he really is. If not for his ex-wife clueing me in, I might never have known. Now I’m angry—that he kept his truth from me, that his ex-wife, a woman he despises, was the one to tell me and not him. Was he ever going to tell me? What was his plan? Initiate me to regular sex and then change the rules?
Or is it possible that he never planned to tell me? Probably… I recall our wedding night and the panic attack I had when he pinned down my hands. After hearing my story, I can see why he might’ve decided to keep the dominant side of himself hidden from me. Though I don’t approve of him entering into a marriage with such a big secret between us, I understand that he thought he was protecting me. And I love him for that, even though I can’t condone the keeping of secrets of this magnitude.
I think about all the good things that have happened between us. I remember his generosity toward Aileen and her family, the way he paid the rent on our New York apartment for a year, paid for meals for all the kids in my school, hosted the gathering of my students, put up with my hostile dog in his bed and went to war over my wrongful termination. I relive his heartfelt proposal, the acceptance and love his family has shown me, and the tenderness he has given me when I needed it most.
I’ve seen his heart, over and over again. He loves me. I have no doubt about that. But does he love me enough to tell me the truth? Does he love me enough to figure this out together? Does he love me enough to let me see the rest of him? The part he has kept hidden from me?
What I won’t tolerate are lies and secrets. I’ve had enough of both those things in my life already. I want the truth. I want him to want to tell me. What will I do if he looks me in the eye and lies?
My heart is breaking as it becomes clear to me that if he lies, I’ll have no choice but to leave him. I can’t—and I won’t—be in a relationship built on lies. Even if he had my best interests at heart by keeping this from me, it’s time now to come clean. I’ll give him the chance to tell the truth, and if he does, we’ll figure out our next steps together. If he lies… Well, then I know what I have to do.
Chapter 20
I wake up to the most god-awful smell. I’m almost afraid to open my eyes to see what it is. When I do, I realize I’m sharing my pillow with the wildebeest, and she’s got some nasty morning breath.