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Cecily

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Who did you make the promise to that brought you to New York?”

I’m startled by the question because I thought he was sleeping. It’s night again, and we have just under two hours left.

Soon, I’ll put aside my fantasy of Cinderella, of the sexy Greek’s girlfriend, and I’ll go back to being a mere stray cat.

No , a voice warns. Maybe it’s not the end and there will be consequences to this forbidden encounter.

My God, what if I’m actually pregnant?

I feel like a fraud because it would allow me to stay with Joseph forever, as well as stay with the man I now know I’m in love with.

But it’s not what he wants. He used the word responsibility to define what he would do if I was expecting a baby. He already has a son, and from what I know of him, he isn’t looking for a new wife.

Jesus, what a mess!

I think about the question he just asked, in fact, a continuation of the conversation I escaped from in the kitchen. I could try the maneuver again, but he’s no fool. He will be even more suspicious.

Besides, my body is exhausted, I think, hiding a smile.

Dionysus kept his promise to make love or at least have foreplay in almost every room of the house. He gave and demanded everything in equal measure, and after a marathon of sex, I’m sore and exhausted but sated and happy too.

Apart from a few naps, his mouth, hands, and sex explored my body, making me scream with pleasure and beg for more.

The whole time he wanted light so he could look at me, and at first, I was ashamed. I knew that making love to someone would require a good deal of intimacy, but it’s so much more.

The surrender is absolute, especially at the time of orgasm. After all the many things he’s given me, I’m sure he knows all my vulnerabilities.

I don’t understand how people can have casual sex, change partners every week. I think if I did that, I would feel empty.

The pleasure of possessing and being possessed by someone I’m attracted to is delicious, but what about afterward? Because with him, no matter how well I know that what we have has an end date, I feel special.

I will never forget the way his expression is tense a few seconds before coming and how, as he surrenders to our pleasure, his handsome, masculine face relaxes, his mouth seeking mine without stopping, even after we are almost passed out from exhaustion.

And as for stamina, I have to say that he beats me by a mile. Dionysus is twelve years older and yet has inexhaustible vigor.

“I thought our time together was aimed at teaching me the pleasures of sex.” I pretend to joke, but really it’s because I don’t want to bring up Keith’s name. Not yet, at least.

“Tell me, Cecily. What made a girl from Kansas come and risk herself in a jungle like Manhattan?”

“Love.” I’m lying on top of him, and after I say that, I feel his body stiffen with tension.

“You came for a man?”

“Yes.”

“Look at me.”

I obey, even though I’m afraid, because I know we’re treading on thin ice. “I came because of a promise and love for someone, but not the romantic kind.”

“Friendship?”

“Yes. I was raised by my stepmother. She’s not a good person. She already had a daughter, and when my father died, I was left in her care.” I look away, embarrassed.

“Why did you stop talking?”

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I don’t need pity.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because my life story is a nightmare. I starved; I was beaten. I never went to the doctor, and I couldn’t go out to play.”

“ Cinderella,” he says, but his face is contorted with tension.

“What?”

“When you had the car accident, I asked my cousin to investigate you,” he says, and I kind of expected that. “Odin compared you to Cinderella. He found out about your stepmother and stepsister. He told me about it and said that your story was like the one of the fairy tale princess. We never imagined, however, that it would be so bad. Where is this bitch?”

“Living in the capital of Kansas. When I turned eighteen, I left home. I gave up everything my father left me. I just wanted to distance myself from them.”

He nods, his face more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “That’s why you didn’t want to go back to your state.”

“No, that was because of the promise I made.”

“Where does this friend you love so much fit into this story?”

My heart races. I plan to tell him about Keith one day, but I need to move the pieces carefully. “He was the grandson of a neighbor. He only came to visit once a year, during the holidays, but even so, every time he arrived, it was like Christmas. The days became brighter and more fun. He gave me his full attention and affection. He took care of me. Even after we grew up, he still came twice a year.”

“Why didn’t he take you out of that hell?”

“He couldn’t. I was underage. He’s four years older, but no judge would let a young adult take responsibility for a teenager. Jodelle, my stepmother, wouldn’t have allowed it either. She needed me around until I came of age, because I had to sign a document giving up my father’s house.”

“Why did you? It was rightfully yours.”

“I think you were raised in a loving family, Dionysus. That’s why you don’t understand. There is no amount of money that makes up for living with someone you hate. And I hated them both.”

“Did you ever try to escape?”

“Yes, I tried, and I was beaten so badly that I almost died. This friend of mine... he dropped everything and took care of me, at his grandmother’s house. They tried to report it. Nobody believed it because the sheriff was Jodelle’s cousin. I was seventeen, so my friend gave me money to leave as soon as I came of age.”

“He loved you.”

“Yes, I’m sure, but not in the way you’re thinking. I think there was a time when we both believed we would be together as a couple, not because we were attracted to each other but because of the solidity of the feeling.”

“Why didn’t it happen?”

“He met someone else, and as time went by, I understood that what we felt was the love of siblings. We agreed that I would meet him when I left Kansas, but this woman he married didn’t want me around. She convinced him to forget me.”

“No one can convince another of such a thing.”

“He was in love. I didn’t get angry. We continued communicating. He made me promise several things about the future,” I say vaguely, “and one of them was that I would never again let anyone make me accept less than I deserve.”

“Where is he now?”

“He died.”

“There’s no one else, then?”

I stand up, needing distance to breathe. That’s not what I want from Dionysus—affection and friendship. I need the breakup when the night is over.

I want the professional relationship back because anything else will mess with my head.

“I have myself and God.” I pretend to smile.

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower. Our time together is ending.”

“It doesn’t have to end like this.”

“You told me you weren’t going to give me another chance.”

“Are you asking for one?”

“No. I’m fine with just today,” I lie and run to the bathroom.