20. Nowhere Else I’d Rather Be

Nowhere Else I’d Rather Be

Z ale

She chose Stratford for their night away. Only an hour and a half away, the perfect drive time, just long enough to drink a coffee, talk, and enjoy the changing scenery. She loved driving through Cambridge. Correction, she loved being driven through Cambridge. Anytime she drove she battled nerves, concentrating so hard she didn’t see much more than the white and yellow lane lines on the road. For his work he’d had to drive all over Southern Ontario, driving didn’t faze him, but he was always a little more focused when he had precious cargo in the car with him.

No show tickets this time, they planned to take a walk through the downtown, the theatre district, and along the river. Thankfully, the weather was brisk but clear and sunny. Walking along the river was first on the agenda, after which they headed out for lunch at The Planet Diner which served the vegan fare that Mara loved. Their motto claimed it as place where herbivores can bring their carnivores. They were not wrong.

Stomachs well-satisfied, they explored the interwoven streets, stopping to browse through the gift shops, laughing when his glasses fogged up from the rapid change in temperature while they perused the shelves of the bookstore and the theatre shop, buying a large, stuffed swan for Olivia, then finally stopping for a break at Coffee Culture.

The smell of fresh coffee and baking was the smell of his childhood home, as well as his home with Mara. Mara cooked and baked from scratch, and the smell of home cooking filled their house often. Smelled like love to him because it was love.

Mara was nervous. He was fairly sure coffee was not going to help, he also knew without enough caffeine she was prone to migraines, and he didn’t want to risk that on this occasion. He wanted her to have a good day, he wanted to have a productive talk, and he wanted to give her a good night, one that he’d enjoy as well. They slipped into a semiprivate booth, and he endeavored to calm her .

“You look pretty, Mara.”

She looked startled, then shy at the compliment. She should be used to receiving compliments from him. He frowned, thought, ‘I’m obviously not doing my job if this is the reaction I’m getting. She should be pleased, not surprised.’

“Thank you, honey.”

Guileless gaze, sweet, shy smile, the same that captivated him years ago.

“You want to tell me what the plan is?”

He was referring to the counselling appointment she’d had, and the research she’d been doing into her condition.

She trained her gaze on her bracelet, the one he bought her, the one she spun when she was nervous, like she was doing at that moment.

“I feel bad, Zee, I feel bad for burdening you with this.”

“Mara,” he started carefully, “putting a label on something doesn’t make it different or new.” He paused to scan her reaction. “I love you. I know what you are, how you are, and who you are. I know all this stuff. I’ve lived it with you. It’s not new to me. I get that it’s a shock to you, but it’s old news to me. It makes no difference.” He leaned toward her over the table, thinking, for once, please, God, let her hear him. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you. ”

Her face registered hope and doubt in equal measure. Now this, this made him sad. This was the pain and grief that he carried, to have all this love for her and her unable to receive it. She did not see herself as loveable, therefore she could not imagine being so loved. She was starving. Steak, mashed potatoes with butter, and steamed veggies were being offered to her on a silver tray, and she couldn’t even smell it.

“I think we’re entering another storm,” she began.

He hoped she was wrong.

“We’ve weathered storms before, bigger than this one.” She looked doubtful. He insisted, “We have. And like always, we’ll do it together. We’ll keep each other warm. You stay close to me, you hang onto me, and I’ll pull you through, Mara. You’ve come a long way. You’ve conquered so much of this on your own.”

“This is true.” She nodded slowly. “I am much easier to live with than I was, but you deserve better than all this.”

“Mara, don’t mistake me, you are the better half of us.”

She scoffed. “Come on, Zee. We both know that’s not true. I would let you go if you wanted to go. There would be no financial or other repercussions. I would release you.”

Tears shone in her eyes, and he leaned toward her, holding her gaze .

“I can honestly tell you, with one hundred percent certainty, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.” He paused. “Now start talking, baby, we’ve got fucking to get to.”

She burst out in a shocked laugh, her face pleased and flushed. He lightened the mood as he’d intended. The comforting sounds of the coffee shop rumbled around them, along with the sound of the traffic passing by, and the jingling of the bell over the door as patrons wandered in and out.

She placed her hands flat on the table. “I need to set boundaries with my mom.”

“I thought you did set boundaries, and she ignored them.”

“Exactly. The counselor explained that true boundaries require consequences. So, for example, if she talks about subjects I’ve told her I’m not going to talk about, it requires a consequence to reinforce it.”

“What kind of consequence?”

“Walking away from a conversation, leaving her house, telling her that I’m not participating in the conversation, telling her that I’ve warned her about doing whatever it is she’s doing and that I will contact her when I’m ready to speak to her again.”

She made an ‘eek’ face on voicing this last part.

“That seems reasonable. Are you going to be able to do it? ”

“I don’t know if I could do it strictly for myself,” she mused, “but when my mom really gets going it takes me a few days to process and sets me back. I get quiet, hurt, and then I’m wound up and extra sensitive around you, and less engaged with Olivia because I’m stuck in my head.”

He nodded. This was true.

“Willa told me the same thing, that you, and Olivia, and even Bex, lived with exhausted, confused, and wound-up Mara, because I put up with her digs. I don’t like that. Especially that she’s affecting you and Olivia indirectly through me. So, I think I can do it since it affects you guys and that makes me angry.”

“You should do it for you, you deserve to be treated well.”

She nodded but she didn’t look convinced.

Percolating coffee machines and the steady drone of others’ conversations filtered through the restaurant. The noise gave them a modicum of privacy, but not so much that she didn’t have to hold it together. His girl could get emotional, so it was good to have this structure.

“What else?”

“I started my DBT.”

She wrapped her hands around her mug and stared into the contents like they held the answers to the mysteries of the world. So much more was going on in her head than she ever expressed .

“What’s DBT again?”

“Dialectical Behavior Therapy. I have no idea what it means, but it is the treatment of choice for this stuff. So far I’ve been reading about distress intolerance, and something called radical acceptance. The workbook the counselor told me to purchase gives these statements that you can say to yourself to help you accept a situation that is stressful. One of my favorites is: ‘This event is exactly how it should be based on the events that happened before it.’ She paused. “So, when I’m angry at my mom, and I’m feeling awful about myself for being so angry about the things she says and does, when the feelings of anger and guilt are intolerable, I can say this little truth and accept that of course I feel bad, of course I’m angry, this is exactly as it should be considering the events leading up to it. It validates what I’m experiencing and takes away the guilt I feel for being so angry with her.”

“So, you think this therapy is the way to go?” He sipped his coffee.

“I think so.”

“What else baby? What can I do to help? Are there changes we can make at home?”

There was more required here than therapy, he thought. She also needed to focus on herself a bit more. Being devoted to the comfort and care of your family is good, and Mara was better than most at it. Being devoted to the comfort and care of your family at the cost of neglecting yourself was not, and unfortunately Mara was better than most at that as well .

“I think you need to do for yourself more.”

“Self-care.” She flushed, embarrassed. “The counselor said self-care is important. Doing specific things to bring down the threshold of anxiety, like relaxation exercises and other soothing activities, I need to learn distraction techniques as well for when I have other types of urges.”

Her face flushed a darker red, shamed.

Pissed him off. He tucked it away.

“What about things like going shopping? Getting your hair done? Spending time with Bex and Willa? Those things are important too. You’re worth your time and energy, too. You’re worth my time and energy. You’re worth Bex and Willa’s time and energy.”

“Bex and Willa have really taken it all to heart. Willa has taken Olivia for the past two Fridays…”

Zale interrupted, wagging his eyebrows. “I know.”

She blushed, smiling. “And Bex is still taking her to the shelter, she made time to go swimming with us twice in the past two weeks, they both made sure I went shopping for this trip…”

“I like the sound of that.”

She laughed. “Stop!”

He smiled. “These are all good things, gorgeous.”

“I know.” She looked back down into her coffee cup. “Good for me, not necessarily good for them, I don’t like asking people for things. I don’t feel that I’m deserving, and I do feel like I’m a burden, that I’m being selfish. Everybody has their own stuff they need to take care of. They don’t need to be looking after me.”

“You’re not a burden, and if you are, then we all are, we’re all burdens on each other, but welcome burdens, because that is a relationship. Your mother instilled those feelings in you by guilting you whenever you wanted something that didn’t line up with her plans. Fight her interference in your relationships.”

“Okay, honey.”

“I’m glad you told Bex and Willa. They seemed to take it all in stride. I knew they would. I’d like to see you accept support from Bex and Willa, meet up with them regularly to talk through some of this shit that your mother tries to fill you with.”

“Funny you should say that. Erin, the counselor, recommended I surround myself with people who will tell me the truth to counteract the alternate reality my mother spins. I asked if she thought she’s a narcissist and she said she definitely exhibits those traits.” She paused. “Bex and Willa assured me they want to support me, they’ll meet with me, and more importantly, they’ll help me decode the crazy conversations with my mother.”

Her eyes got big, with her pretty mouth twisted to the side, he could see her struggling with this idea.

“Do it for them, too, Mara.” She looked up at him. “They need you healthy and whole. I was going to say especially Willa, but Bex, too. ”

“This is true,” she acknowledged.

Perhaps it was dishonest to motivate her to do for herself by appealing to her inclination to care for others, but at this point, he figured, whatever works, hoping it would have the positive influence of increasing her self-esteem and getting her the support she deserved.

She asked, “Do you believe she’s a narcissist?”

He sat back. “It’s tough, I don’t see that side of her, but I believe you, everything you’ve told me, I just attributed it to different reasons. It’ll take a bit to reprogram my responses. I have a question for you. How do you feel about confiding in Sophie?”

Her eyes widened and he easily read the fear there. “No, no way. I don’t want them to know. They’ll feel sorry for you. I couldn’t take that.”

“Okay,” he rushed to soothe her. “No problem. I don’t believe that would be the case, but it’s up to you.”

She shook her head but moved on. “I’m worried that my moods affect Olivia, that they have affected her all these years.”

Her eyes welled and she went back to studying the contents of her coffee cup.

“It never touched her, Mara,” he assured her firmly. Her eyes flew to his. He held her gaze. “I promise you. It never touched her. ”

A single tear escaped. She reached across the table and touched the back of his hand with one finger. He turned his palm up and enclosed her hand in his.

“Only you,” she whispered, heartbroken.

“You’re worth it,” he whispered back.

Soon after, he decided it was time to change the direction of their talk and they left the coffee shop, dropped the shopping bags off at the hotel that was a few doors down, freshened up, and then went for a long walk that ended at Molly Bloom’s Irish Pub for dinner.

Returning to the room, they rented a movie and lay down to cuddle and watch. He admitted he’d last about ten minutes before passing out, but that when he woke up she’d better be ready for him. True to form he woke near the end of the movie, revived.

“Get ready for bed, gorgeous, and I don’t mean sleep. I’ll be back.” He kissed her quick, hard, then rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

She put on her new negligee and stood at the side of the bed, facing the hallway. Feeling stupid honestly. Should she sit? Stand? Cross her legs? Sit on the bed? In the end she ran out of time to decide and was just standing there fidgeting with the lace at the bottom edge of her nightie when the bathroom door opened. He came out and turned right toward her. His eyes swept from her painted toes to her wide eyes. There was a lot to take in, she was lush, and he loved every inch of her. He didn’t break stride as his chin dipped, eyes darkened with intent, locking onto her startled gaze.

Crosshairs.

Headlights.

Stunned bunny.

“Uh, oh,” she breathed out, lips parted as the heat of his energy slammed into her womb, and her hands jerked away from the hem, fingers spreading reflexively in a startle response beside her thighs. She had the sudden urge to retreat and instinctively knew what it was to be tracked and caught. Trepidation warred with anticipation, and it was a heady mix.

Before she could act he was there, long strides eating up the space between them, strong arms closing around her back, and firm lips further parting her soft ones. His hands slid firmly across her back, one to her nape, one to the top of her ass, pulling her fully against him.

There was no mistaking his arousal.

Reassurance.

She breathed him in, and her arms came up under his and around his broad back. She kneaded the flat muscles that flexed and undulated along his spine as his sweet mouth moved over hers. The want in her body hijacked her mind, thank God. Heat and longing unfurled low in her belly and bubbled up through her chest, escaping in a gasp that had her head falling back in surrender, her long hair spilling over his arms. He tightened his hold and held her gaze as he backed them up to the bed, turned, and laid her out before him.

Insecurity returned with a vengeance, and she clamped her thighs closed in an undisguised and failing attempt to hide them. She turned her face to the side, but he leaned across her over the bed and tilted her head back toward him with a finger to her jaw.

He held her gaze and made no attempt to hide the heat in his. With one hand he reached behind his head to grab onto the back of his tee, in that way men do, and pulled it over his head, tossing it onto a chair. He stood straight and watched her eyes travel across his chest and follow the path his hands took to the waistband of his jeans. He watched her swallow as he unbuttoned, unzipped, and pushed his jeans down over his long hard thighs. There was no teasing it out. He did not waste time. She did not miss a step. He did not miss her thighs pressed together for another reason now, rubbing together to ease the throbbing at their juncture, and his dick jumped at the thought of the heat and the wet that awaited him there. He stepped out of his jeans but left on the black boxers that were aggressively tenting, drawing her eyes like a beacon.

With one hand braced against the mattress beside her head, one hand on her hip, knee on the bed beside hers, watching her watching him, lips a breath away, he drew his other knee slowly between her legs, his hard thigh, bristling with dark hair, slowly easing hers apart until finally, finally he pressed his thigh firmly against her heat.

She sucked in involuntarily and lifted her eyes to his.

Hunger.

Heat.

Desire.

Swirling between them.

Soft, willing, female.

Hard, hungry, male.

His mouth came down on hers hard and she opened to him. Opened her mouth, her arms, her thighs, her mind, and he wasted no time widening her thighs with his and rocking his hips hard into the cradle of her pelvis.

She moaned with the sudden bolt of desire and lifted her hips eagerly to rub against the hard length pressed against her core, her attention pinballing between the points of contact between them.

In the battle between her insecurity and her want, insecurity temporarily ceded victory, and she undulated beneath him, moaning into his kiss.

He met her stroke for stroke and when it became too much, when it came too close, she braced her foot on the , and he allowed her to roll him onto his back .

Straddling his lean hips, she nibbled and bit and sucked lightly at his lips, his neck, his ears, his throat, his nipples, and his chest. She dragged her tongue, flicking down his abdomen, her legs sliding off the edge of the bed, and hooked her fingers over the waistband of his shorts.

He lifted his hips, and she pulled them off, standing up at the side of the bed looking down at all six beautiful naked feet of him. It was all about him now, no room in her brain to think of anything else.

She dragged her nails up his thighs and climbed back onto the bed to nestle between his thighs, bent over his erection. It jumped under her attention. Leaning forward, her hands braced on either side of his hips, she closed her lips over the swollen head and sucked him deep.

His hands tangled in her hair, alternately pulling her face away to stop himself from coming and encouraging her to take him deeper. She swallowed against the swollen head, and he yanked her off and dragged her up his body. She gripped his hips with her thighs and rubbed hard against him, making him slick with her wet.

He fucked her mouth with his tongue and took her to her back, driving into her with one hard push. Holding there, unmoving, his face tight and jaw clenched, she panted in his face, “Oh, please…”

He pulled back and stroked back in slowly, once, twice, her head tossed back on the pillow, throat exposed to his hungry mouth, the heat too much and not quite enough, eyes shut tight, fingers digging into his ass, her thighs high and wide around his hips, lost in sensation and climbing higher.

He pulled out abruptly and she cried out in shock and dismay at the loss. By the time she refocused he was shoulders deep between her thighs and he covered her with his mouth and devoured her with his kiss. Tongue and lips and teeth nibbling gently and then sucking her clit deeply into his mouth. Two fingers pushed in, pumped twice, and he groaned as she came all over his face with a harsh gasp, her body bowed up with the strain, and he licked her clean.

Coming down, slowly, aftershocks racking her womb, he held her close beside him. She pressed her body close, moaning still, needing to be filled.

“Shh, shh…” He stroked her side, her hip, her back, brought her slowly back to cognizance. She rested against his chest. His hands in her hair, stroking, massaging.

Arousal began anew. He loved the way she arched to meet his hand, humming low in her throat.

Lifting her face, she pressed her lips against his, tasting herself. She moaned, licked along the seam of his mouth, he opened, and she suckled his tongue, dipped into his mouth, reveling in her taste on his beautiful lips. Their thoughts aligned, along with their bodies.

He is mine.

And I am his .

She is mine.

And I am hers.

She harbored no hesitation now, she kissed his neck, bit and licked and sucked on his flat hardened nipples, eliciting a grunt that went straight to her clit, her womb contracting as his hands tightened on her hips.

He loved to get her to this state where she took over and let herself go. His hands moved to her breasts and then her hair as she moved down his body. She dragged her nails lightly up and down the inside of his muscular thighs, then swallowed him down again with a low hungry moan that was an echo of his own.

Swallowing against the head then dragging her lips up over the shaft to the tip, circling that most sensitive area with her tongue, giving him soft open mouth kisses, before wrapping her lips around him once again, taking him to her throat, and rolling. She had him now, all his focus on her, his fist wrapped in her hair.

She loved that, better yet when he held her head still and took over. She wanted to get him to that state where he lost control. Her hand came up to encase and gently tug on his balls, then slid up to wrap around his cock, moving up and down in time with her mouth, drowning him in sensation, while his fist flexed in her hair.

It felt too good but he had to stop it soon so he could fill her. He lay tense beneath her bobbing head another moment before firmly gripping her soft curls and pulling her face from his lap .

“Up, baby, up here, now,” he growled.

She climbed up his body, straddled his hips, and sank down hard on his cock with a satisfied sigh. He wrapped his hands around the curve of her hips that he loved so much. She moved, he thrust, she lifted her chest away from his and he latched hard onto her breast, nipping and sucking the sensitive tip. She rode him slowly, the delicious feel of his head dragging across the sweet spot inside her causing her body to jerk with another orgasm.

He locked his arms around her, drove inside, and emptied his seed.

“This is what I want for you, baby, this,” he rasped.

Sweaty and sated, limp, her body liquified, he shifted her to the side, and she lay against his chest, his arms holding her like something precious.

Mind quiet.

At peace.

Feeling his love.

Reality seeped back in slowly.

She became aware of her loose stomach resting on his hard thigh.

The war resumed.