“Your food's getting cold.”
I blinked and realized that I was watching her instead of eating. Trying not to look like I was embarrassed, I dug into the food.
“Any plans for today?” Nori asked a few minutes later.
“Figured I'd go out, hit a few clubs.” The sarcasm practically dripped from my words. “You know, see how many women dig scars.”
I glanced up and realized I'd said the wrong thing. Nori's mouth had tightened, and she was looking down at her fork, pushing things around on her plate.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I'd never been that guy, the good guy, the one who deserved people to think good things about him. But I stopped. She actually didn't need me to tell her. I was pretty sure she already knew it, and if she didn't, she would soon enough.
Things didn't get any better after that. The only good thing I could say was they didn't actually get worse either. In fact, the thing that frustrated me the most was that things seemed to have plateaued. Even if there wasn't any romance between us, the entire basis of a Dom / Sub relationship was trust. I'd figured that part, at least, would be the same. I had no idea what I'd actually expected to happen, but it hadn't been nothing.
Though maybe that was a good thing. The entire day after our second session, I found myself looking for her, hoping that I'd see her. Instead of staying on the second floor and burying myself in video games and sleep after PT, I started wandering around the house, going from room to room on the bottom floor, hoping that she'd be somewhere, cleaning or cooking. When I didn't find her there, I actually ventured out back by myself. Despite the high fence surrounding the little piece of land, I stuck in the shadows for the short amount of time it took me to confirm that she wasn't out there.
I knew that meant she was upstairs, but I still hung around on the bottom floor. I stayed there through lunch, but she didn't come down. I just hoped that didn't mean she was avoiding me. I didn't think she'd do that, but that dark part of my mind was starting to make itself known again.
I ate my dinner upstairs, but that didn't stop me from wondering if Nori had come down as soon as I'd left. Wondering if she'd been watching and waiting, not wanting to interact with me after last night. Wondering if she'd figured out how I felt about her. Or, rather, how much I wanted her, since I wasn't even entirely sure how I felt.
The rest of the night was spent staring at the television without really seeing what I was watching. It sounded like a reality show of some kind, but I couldn't muster up the energy to change the channel. I couldn't stop thinking about her.
She haunted me.
That was the only word I could think of to explain how she affected me. Haunting. Like she was some ethereal being beyond my touch. It was strangely and painfully accurate. Except I was the one who was dead and she was very much alive.
She was there every time I closed my eyes. Every thought led me to her. Her plan to pull me out of the darkness by giving me back control had worked, but not the way either of us expected. She was the one who'd pushed it back, and she was the one who kept it at bay. Tapping into the part of me that craved control had shown me a different side of myself, but none of it meant anything without her.
And that was what scared the shit out of me. That once I no longer needed the nursing assistance, she'd tell Father O'Toole to hire a real housekeeper so she could go back to Texas. She had no reason to stick around.
When I woke up the next morning, things weren't any better. In fact, because I'd fallen asleep on the couch, every inch of me was stiff and protesting. My dreams had been chaotic and disturbing, a weird mixture of memories from the accident, from my time overseas, and Nori trying to tell me that all I needed to do to feel better was go with her to an S&M club wearing leather pants and carrying a whip.
Like I said, disturbing.
It was a relief to have a message from Father O'Toole come through while I was changing my clothes. Breakfast with him out on the back patio sounded like a good way to keep my mind off of Nori.
He was already in the kitchen when I arrived downstairs.
“If I'd known she was going to make so much food, I would've paid her more,” he said as he emerged from behind the refrigerator door. He held a carton of milk in one hand and a bowl of fruit salad in another. “Is it as good as it looks?”
“It is.” I grabbed a couple bowls and a box of cereal. “She made pancakes yesterday.”
“Maybe I should stay for lunch,” he said with a grin. “Wouldn't want her hard work to go to waste.”
So much for getting my mind off Nori.
“How are things going between the two of you anyway?” Father O'Toole asked as he settled in one of the chairs.