Hansel 3(2)

“Five years.”

Havoc steals over her face. “Five years?” Her voice squeaks.

I nod slowly.

“But you told me—”

“No I didn’t.” She’s going to say I told her two or three years prior to her arrival, but that isn’t true. I was always vague, and Leah didn’t dare imagine I had been there so long. I was fourteen when mother brought me from the hospital, and a few months shy of eighteen when I met Leah.

“But…”

“You think you know me?” I ask softly. My hand rises to her cheek and cups her smooth, warm skin. “Leah,” I step closer to her, “Hansel was a made up boy. You think I’m Hansel now? You think I’m…your friend?”

She locks her jaw, and warmth spreads through me.

“No.” I nod toward the bathroom, out ahead of me, the door of it situated between a potted plant and the entertainment center. This is the place where my subs usually change clothes. Where they’re encouraged to leave their own attire while they act out a role for me. While they are Leah.

I pull in a deep breath and fix my eyes on hers. “Go get dressed, Leah. It’s time for you to go.”

She opens her mouth. I can tell from the softness of her features that she’s going to protest. She’s confused. She’s not ready to go yet. She doesn’t have closure. I don’t know what she’ll say next, and I don’t want to find out.

“It’s just like Monday, Leah. Lauren.” I say it with a sneer. “You don’t follow directions, and I like submissives. You think I enjoyed your ridiculous attempts to dominate me? You think I want more of that?”

Her face is on lockdown, but I see the ripple of my words in the tightening of her brow, in the deepening of the lines around her mouth. She can’t hold the poker face for long. Her lips twist downward and her eyes gleam.

Relief sweeps through me. Now she’ll go. I’ll be spared the…shame of this.

The echo of that moment in the bedroom burns through me.

I turn away from her, then step over to the kitchen counter for my keys and wallet. I’m listening for her footsteps, ready to hear her headed toward the bathroom. She’ll get dressed and go, and I will drive to Mother’s house.

I want it tonight. Maybe I even need it.

I slide my wallet into my back pocket, and I hear Leah coming up behind me. She walks around me and stops directly in front of me. I keep my eyes trained on the counter for a second longer than I need to: bracing myself.

When my gaze skitters over her, I’m surprised to find her eyes blazing.

“You’re lying. What’s your name?” she snaps.

“I go by Edgar now,” I tell her sharply.

“Edgar. Okay, Edgar. You’re a liar.” Her face—it’s…gorgeous. Every feature in motion, she glows with energy and emotion. I fucking love her animated like this. For all those months, I never saw her whole face.

“Leah…” Reverence.

I rush to turn my tone around. Tug in air while I fight to come up with a plan for getting her out of here. For making her not give a shit if I enjoyed the things we did together.

“Leah,” I say, hard now, “who’s your boyfriend?”

“What?”

“Your boyfriend? Tell me, what’s his name?”

She shakes her head a little. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend now. I can believe that. You’ve been fucking me. But there must have been someone before. Who was the last?” I cross my arms, mirroring her stance. “Who was the last?”

She drops her arms down by her sides, and I can see her cracking. “Why does it matter?” She takes a small step back, and heat sings through my chest. I’m right about her. It’s sick that I should care, but care I do.

“Have you ever had anyone? Anyone you loved? Have you ever been engaged, Leah? Ever been married?”

Her eyes betray her. The way she hugs herself and looks defeated. Shamed, like me. Pain flares up inside me—pain for her—but I douse it with intention. “I can see it on your face, the answer: no. Why did you come here, Leah—after the show? You thought Edgar was me, but you came in a mask. How come?”

She rubs her lips together. Shifts her gaze away. “I was curious,” she says quietly.

“Why the mask?”

“I heard you were hard to get in touch with,” she says, looking up at me with cautious eyes. “I thought if you didn’t want to see me…”

“But you didn’t even try. You didn’t try to come to me as Leah.” My voice lifts. “I asked Raymond, and you never called or left a message.” I step closer to her, watching her shrink into herself. She’s threatened now. Embarrassed. “You came in a mask, because you wanted to fuck me. Not just for sex’s sake,” I tell her softly. I step a little closer, still. “You don’t fuck for fucking’s sake, like I do, do you? No. You said it’s been a long time. Why?”