23. Bridget

brIDGET

It might sound silly,but I never knew Seth was even capable of weeping. Didn't know he even felt this much.

But of course, he does. He's human.

I've never thought of Seth as human. The way he kept me at arm's length, then became the measured, precise Dom I've always wanted.

As he weeps in my arms, I feel like weeping too.

For one, I've realized I care for him in such a way that his emotions are becoming my emotions. My insides mirror his pain. And for another, I know this must be coming from somewhere so deep and painful that Seth doesn't even know what to do with himself. I hope he doesn't turn away from me.

The only thing I can control is not turning away from him.

So, I let him sob his eyes out for lord knows how long. I hold him.

And he doesn't push away.

I bestow soft kisses to his shoulders and neck, say his name in a low and soft way to remind him I am here. And I will not be going anywhere unless he physically pushes me away.

He never does.

When Seth's tears begin to abate and his breath steadies, he turns his head just slight enough to look at me. Not eye contact. No, too embarrassed for that, maybe.

"I'm sorry," he says.

I squeeze his biceps. "What? Don't be sorry."

"I lost control, I wasn't supposed to–"

"Seth, I won't let you apologize for feeling." I tuck my chin on his shoulder and tighten my arms around his chest.

He tucks his fingers on my wrists. Thumb strokes the back of my arm. "Thank you," he whispers.

I have learned from the best what good aftercare looks like. And I am more than happy to give it in return. "Lay down with me."

"Bridget, I should–"

I have learned when I can press back on my Dom. When to cross the line. And I won't allow him to walk away from me now. "Please lay down with me," I repeat in a voice that I would give to no one else.

Seth does not refuse. He allows me to pull him down into the pillows, allows me to pull the covers up over our shoulders.

We face each other now but our bodies don't dare touch.

I'm able to get a good look at him in the warm lamplight and…

Oh, my poor baby.

His face is sticky with tears, face blotched with red, eyes catatonic from how hard he was crying.

I'd hazard a guess that it's been a long, long time since he's cried.

Years, maybe.

I grab his hands and pull them to my mouth, kiss his knuckles.

Again, he doesn't pull away.

I will do everything he has ever done for me. Even if he doesn't tell me what's going on. I will be his comfort, his care.

I feel too deeply for him to pretend like his pain is not my own.

I won't go as far to tell him I love him because…

That's too scary. Too much.

However, my heart screams at me just go for it. To use the words appropriate to the situation. My brain says, "Hush, not yet."

Seth opens his mouth so slowly that I can see each minute movement.

I wait. Do not press. Do not look with expectation.

"My dad…" he says, his voice pained and strangled. "He died here."

My eyes widen, brows jumping. "Oh my god."

"Not in the house," he amends. His eyes flutter shut. He swallows. "On the ocean."

Dad never told me about how Seth's father passed away. I just knew it was an accident. And of course, I've never asked Amelia about it. I haven't wanted to spoil her happiness.

I've never wanted to spoil anything. Which makes lying here with Seth…

"We were fishing. We did that a lot down here. We were way out on the ocean. Storm rolled in. Sudden. That's how it is in Florida." He squints his eyes. They are fixed on our clasped hands.

He worries his lips together for a few moments. "The waves became huge. Dad did all he could but eventually, the boat capsized."

My organs start twisting in knots. I think I know where this is heading.

"We started trying to swim. Dad started losing strength, I pulled him along with me as long as I–" His voice breaks, and he presses his chin to his chest, another sob escapes.

I release Seth's hands and pull my body to his, sliding my fingers through his hair.

I need to be close. Need to let him know I am receiving each and every word. I won't look away.

"He told me to let him go."

Tears threaten my eyes. I push them back. I won't upend his moment with my own sadness.

"I didn't want to," Seth cries. "But if I was going to survive, I–"

"He knew that, Seth. He was trying to save you."

Seth's lips contort. A combination of distress and anger. "I should've been able to save him too, I should've…"

"He wanted you to live, Seth." I'm not sure the words are even coming out of my mouth.

I'm discussing his father's death with him, something I never thought would happen. And I never in a million years would have anticipated how truly horrible his death was.

Seth's lower lip trembles. "But I wanted my dad," he says. "I want my dad."

For all his strength and posturing, Seth still has his inner child trembling inside him in need of love and attention. Just like anyone else.

I've never gotten a chance to glimpse it. And now that I see it, my heart is screaming at me louder to love this man.

I cradle Seth's head to my shoulder. His arms slide around me, clinging to me. "I'm so sorry, Seth. I am so sorry you had to go through that."

He buries his face into my neck, tries to catch his breath. His tears tickle my skin. "I thought coming here…" he says between heavy breaths. "I thought coming here with you would help me move on, but I can't."

I try not to freeze up.

What does getting over his dad's death have to do with me?

Still, I press on. "You'll never get over it, Seth. He's your dad. And you loved him. You'll always miss him. I mean…I lost my mom so long ago I barely remember her." I look at pictures. I have videos. Recordings. Her writing. Things she left for me so I'd remember her, cards she wrote for all important moments of my life. She spent the last months of her life as breast cancer destroyed her writing to the woman she hoped her three-year-old would become.

I miss her. It hurts.

But I've never questioned the grief I have for a life without my mother.

Seth has pushed it all down for too long. Now his grief is looking for reparations.

He swallows thickly and retreats again so that he can look in my eyes. "That's why I'm like this, Bridget. Why I don't like to lose control."

"I understand."

"BDSM, it gives me the power over my life I didn't, well, I guess never had."

I nod. Submission gives me the freedom I don't feel I have in my day-to-day life. "You're answering a part of yourself."

The corners of his lips creep up. Thank god, a little smile. "Yes, that's exactly it."

"I love that smile." I touch my thumb to his lower lip.

His face is still blotched with tears, but if it wasn't so red, he'd probably be blushing.

He kisses the pad of my thumb. "You've turned everything upside down."

"Oh?"

Seth's eyes drop to my collar. He skims it with the tips of his fingers. "What I thought I wanted and what I need are more different than I ever expected, Bridget."

I hold my breath.

"Do you…do you know what I mean?" He seems unsure.

Seth is never unsure.

I open my mouth to respond but shake my head instead.

Seth wraps his hands around the side of my head, pulls my face closer to his so we are only an inch or so apart.

He could kiss me. But instead, his breath caresses my lips. Then his words. "My feelings. I can't control them."

Oh no.

"I don't just want your submission. Not just your body. Bridget…" Seth tips his forehead against mine. "I want all of you."

I'm not sure how long the silence lasts.

I want to respond in kind because I know my feelings are the same as his. I want more. Want everything.

But for all intents and purposes, Seth Carlton is my stepbrother. Perhaps he's forgotten it amidst all the fucking and the punishments and avoiding eye contact. Perhaps everything has gotten too messy, misconstrued, and–

"I want to be with you, Bridget."

My body reflexes away from his touch, I roll away from him, leap off the bed, and back away until I'm pressed up against the window. "Seth, you know we can't do that."

Seth moves languidly, his hand sliding across the bed to the spot I once was. His expression is calm, lips turned into a smile like I'm a child who needs to be convinced to jump off the high diving board.

"I know it will be complicated. But it can't be more complicated than punishing ourselves for feeling this way."

I stare at him. My forehead hurts from how it's wrinkled.

"Unless…" His smile fades. "Unless you don't feel the same."

"I–I feel–" I can't confirm. That will make it harder when I let him down, won't it? "It would be selfish of us."

Seth sits up. "Selfish?" he echoes with an angry tone. "How would it be selfish?"

"My dad and your mom both deserve what they have, you know?"

"Of course, they do. But what does that have to do with us deciding to–"

"They deserve their happy family."

Seth licks his lower lip. "I agree."

"And if we–" I wave a hand between us. "If we ruined that, it would be selfish. We'd spoil everything."

"And what we've done so far hasn't?" The coldness is creeping back into his voice.

I've been familiar with his stoic self for so many years, been party to the way he can stare right through somebody. I don't want our lives to go back to the way they were.

But we can't have our cake and eat it too, can we?

I'm asking.

Can we?

"You think having me as a Dom in secret somehow exempts you from betraying this ‘happy family' dynamic you're talking about?" Seth presses further.

I chew on the inside of my cheek.

"God." Seth throws off the covers and climbs out of the bed. "You're so fucking na?ve, Bridget."

I grip my hands into fists. "Don't be mean to me."

Seth stops. Takes a measured breath. "Fine. You're right. I'm sorry."

I lean on the window frame.

Outside is the ocean, the devil of an ocean, the one that swallowed Seth's father whole. If it hadn't, Seth and I probably never would have met. And maybe that would have been for the best.

Or maybe our paths would have crossed and…it wouldn't be complicated. We could have each other.

It's useless thinking in what ifs.

"Does it matter to you? How I feel about you?" Seth says in a defeated tone.

I wait too long to respond. I know I do. But I don't know what to say.

Then I whisper, "Can't we just…can you give me some time? We can keep things how they've been, and I can think about it. Get used to the idea."

Seth looks away, tucks his tongue against his cheek. And when his eyes return to me–oh god–It's exactly how it used to be. Cold. Dark. Threatening to turn me to ice.

"I don't have any more time to give, Bridget."

My heart cracks. "Seth, please, just because I'm not saying yes doesn't mean I'm not–"

I grab my chest. I'm throbbing for him. I have never felt full before him. I need him. He's a part of me.

My hand slides up to my collar. "I'm yours, Seth. This doesn't change that I'm yours."

He shakes his head softly. "No, you're right. That doesn't change."

Without another word, he leaves my room and leaves a haze of confusion in his wake.

I slide down to the floor and sit there for a long time.

I do not release my collar. The collar I earned by being his. The one I just fucking earned today for being a good sub, for giving into all his desires.

Except the one that actually meant something.

I blink. Tears run down my face.

God. I wish I could have said yes. So bad. But I can't.

I can't hurt my dad.

He can't know that I'm not his good little girl. He doesn't deserve that.

And neither does Amelia.

They've wanted us to get along for years. Not fuck each other.

Not fall in love.

Seth is right. I ruined everything.