"At least I know one thing about tonight," she mutters, then turns back toward the window.
I stop thinking, go over to her, slide my arm around her waist, and step flush against her back.
She freezes.
I murmur into her ear, "If you stiffen up like this tonight, you won't be coming back here."
She slowly tilts her head, pinning her glassy blues on mine. "Do you even want me here?"
Blood rushes to my head so fast that I have to focus on fighting the dizziness. I reply, "Is that what you think? That I don't want you here?"
Her bottom lip quivers. "I might as well have been invisible."
"You're anything but," I declare.
Another streak of lightning bursts through the sky as thunder booms. She jumps, and I chuckle, which feels like the first time I've laughed in weeks.
She takes a deep breath and smiles.
"Come eat. I'll make you lunch." I lead her over to the island and pull out the barstool.
She sits but states, "I really don't think I can eat." She puts her hand on her stomach.
I put my hand on her forehead. "Don't tell me you're sick."
"No. Just nervous."
I nod. "It's normal."
She blurts out, "What else is normal?"
"Nothing," I state.
She glares at me.
I hold my hands in the air. "I'm not lying. Every event is different."
"Tell me one thing, Riggs. Something that when I get there, I know it's always the same," she says.
I try to think, but there's nothing I can tell her.
She takes my silence the wrong way and accuses, "You really can't give me one thing, can you? It's just another way for you to stay in control."
I pull the chair out and sit next to her, confessing, "This isn't about control, pet. I don't know what will happen when we show up. They don't tell me if we'll be in a private room or on the stage. I don't know what tools I'll be provided, if anything at all. The board decides everything, and they feel the element of surprise keeps the process honest."
"Honest?"
"It's for your protection...to make sure subs are with the right Dom," I add.
She closes her eyes, keeping her hand on her stomach. Her face turns pale. I barely hear her beg, "I need something, Riggs. One thing I'm aware of. I don't know why, but something is calming to me about knowing what the normal part is."
I think for a minute, then stroke her cheek and state, "Me. I'm your normal part."
She opens her eyes and softly laughs.
"What's so funny?" I question.
"You aren't normal," she claims.