Alexandra
Two weeks later
Lastnight,Idreamed I died. In the dream, I was swimming underwater in a blissfully hot, rectangular turquoise pool. Suddenly, the water turned icy cold and everything became pitch black around me. Sharp pain tore through my chest, making my heart hammer violently against my ribs. Sickening waves of terror welled up from my belly as an invisible hand constricted my throat, closing off my air supply. I commanded my body to swim, but my muscles were heavy and weak, unable to comply. In that moment, a realization hit me that death was near and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Blissful heat spread through me as I disconnected from my body, surrendering to death. Loud sobbing comes out of the office next to Agnes's, jolting me back to the real world. The memories of rocking back and forth, wailing uncontrollably, popped into my mind's eye. I've come a long way since I started seeing my therapist, Agnes. Before I found her, I had the misfortune of coming across a few therapists who direly needed therapy themselves.
The first one was a middle-aged male counselor who kept dozing on and off during the sessions. I sat on the couch, staring in horror as his lids slammed shut, head dropped forward and mouth flopped open. After several minutes, he snapped back into consciousness and blurted out, "can't you just get over it?" I got up, left his office and never came back.Dorothea, my second therapist, was a devout Christian who spent the entire session reading passages from her Bible. She urged me to let Jesus in my heart, to surrender to his love and let him take my pain away. I guess I wasn't ready to let Jesus in my heart, so I never went back. Then when I met Martha, I hoped the third time was the charm. Gosh, I must've offended the gods of therapy because I ended up being the therapist and Martha being my client. For fifty minutes, she poured her heart out, telling me in great detail about finding her now ex-husband, having sex in their marital bed with a male associate from his law firm. I found Agnes while researching PTSD self-help strategies. After some digging, I discovered she's a highly respected somatic psychotherapist and regarded as an expert in trauma. Despite the stern expression on her face and reserved manner, in my gut I knew she had a warm and compassionate heart.
Agnes opens the door and gives me a warm smile. "Good to see you again, Alexandra. Please come in."
"Thank you. Good to see you too, Agnes."
Smiling back, I rise to my feet and walk inside her spacious, book-lined office. I plop on the dark gray two-seater couch. Smoothing down her brown pleated skirt, she settles on to the armchair opposite me and gives me a warm smile. After exchanging small talk, we spend the rest of the session unpacking the meaning of my dream. Initially, I thought my unconscious mind was still working through the feelings of powerlessness and helplessness I felt when Nathan was squeezing the life out of me. But the assault nightmares I had in the beginning were always the same and none of them involved drowning. They stopped in three months, after Agnes helped me to confront the distressing memories and intrusive thoughts.
"Symbolically drowning represents the fear of losing control and ourselves. Considering this has been a pattern in your relationships with men, is it possible you're scared this will happen with Sebastian?" She tilts her head, drawing her brows together, waiting patiently for my answer.
I release a drawn-out exhale, shifting my line of sight to the bookcase behind her, as I consider if I should disclose the cathartic experience I had during the Kinbaku session. I want to, I honestly do. So, why does it feel like a betrayal to Sebastian if I do?
"I mean, yes, absolutely. If I'm honest, I've a screwed-up view on love. Part of me believes in higher love, the desire to merge with your one true soulmate, yet I'm scared to death to let people in. My father never showed me any affection, so I don't know how it feels to be loved by a man. I know how it feels to fear a man, but not how to love one." I force out a bitter laugh to suppress the uncomfortable emotions churning in my gut. Agnes's perceptive gaze bores through me as if she is trying to tell me she knows I'm hiding something, but she's letting me off the hook, for now.
"The good thing is you're aware of your distorted perception of love and relationships, and you're working on changing them. The question is—are you willing to let Sebastian in, or are you going to look for reasons to keep him out?"
I suck my lower lip between my teeth, not sure if I'm ready to answer this question. In less than seven months, he's torn down the walls around my heart and, like a knight in shining armor, he swooped in, ready to rescue me from my carefully constructed emotional prison. What he doesn't know is, despite all the healing I've done so far, I'm not ready to come out just yet. I need time.
"What I would like to know," I draw in a lungful of air to steady myself, "is if he would be patient enough to wait for me to let him in when I'm ready? And in the meantime, would he still be willing to love the person behind the wall?" Clearing her throat, Agnes rests her hand on her knee.
"It sounds like it's time for you and Sebastian to have a serious talk. It's best to lay the cards on the table before things get out of hand." My heart freezes mid-beat as a trickle of fear moves through my veins. There is no way out of this, Allie. Suck it up and just do it.
During the last fifteen minutes of my session, we talk about other meanings of the dream. Agnes wonders if my unconscious mind or higher self might be sending me a message that I'm about to go through a potentially life-changing test, which could lead to an emotional rebirth. Whatever it might be, it seems I don't have a choice but to get ready for a bumpy ride.
Lifting my head up, I close my eyes and let the warm water slide down my body. It's been ages since I had a girl's night in with Heidi and Katie. They've been spending lots of time together at Club Dominion, especially now that Heidi's set her sights on Christopher. Sebastian told me Christopher's wife had died in a car accident with their unborn child. She was two blocks away from home when a teenager, high on drugs and alcohol, veered out of his lane and collided head-on with her car. He told me many submissives have tried to get close to him with no success, but I've caught him several times staring at Heidi with a burning intensity and undisguised fascination. Who knows, she might be the one who'll end up breaking through his walls, just like Sebastian did with mine.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrap myself in my fluffy towel and trot to my walk-in closet. I shuffle through my hangers, searching for my favorite pink V-neck sweater, but the hanger is empty. I don't remember wearing it before we went to Japan. Gripping my towel, I stroll to my laundry basket and rummage through the dirty clothes, but the sweater isn't there. What the hell? Where is it?
I peek my head through the door and shout at the top of my voice. "Heidiii."
Opening her bedroom door, she runs in my direction. "What? Are you okay?"
I jerk my chin in agreement. "Have you seen my pink sweater?"
Pursing her lips, she stares at me as if I've lost my marbles. "Damn it, you scared me to death, Allie. I thought something happened to you. What pink sweater?"
Feeling bad for scaring her, I smile at her apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You know, my favorite one with the zipper in the back."
"Apology accepted. Anyway, if you're asking me if I borrowed it while you were away, then the answer is no. Have you checked your laundry basket?" She cocks her head, surveying me with a questioning squint.
"Yes, I did. Come to think of it, a few months ago, I couldn't find my new lace panties I bought from the fetish store. It was as if they vanished into thin air. Now, my sweater. Have you noticed if any of your clothes are missing?" A shudder runs like a ghostly touch over my skin. Heidi's mouth flies open in a gape.
"I'd have noticed if something was missing. Do you think we should call the police?"
"With all the unsolved murders and increase in violent crime, I don't think my missing panties are going to be high on their priority list. And anyway, what am I going to say? 'Officer, I can't find my sexy lace panties. Do you know if there are any panty thieves stalking our neighborhood?" I release a quick, high-pitched, humorless laugh.
"But it's not only your panties, now your sweater is missing. What if someone is stalking you? It could be a patient or their relative. What if Nathan's sent someone?" she insists, her voice laced with concern.
Shoot!She could be right. My stomach pits in tight coils as the reality of someone potentially stalking me sinks in. I promise her I'll call the police department tomorrow, then scoot back to my bedroom to get dressed. Throwing on a pair of black skinny jeans and an oversized black sweater, I dry my hair and pull it up in a messy bun. The jangle of the doorbell announces Katie's arrival. Opening the door, I give her a face-splitting grin.
"Hey, good to see you again, hun."
"You too, girl. I had a week from hell. I need a drink, or a few." She smiles back, exposing her perfect row of pearly white teeth, and thrusts two bottles of prosecco in my hands.