“I care about your sister, Sophie. I would never do anything to hurt her. I’m going to help her, and be that person to rely on. Trust me, and all I ask is that you come to me, okay?” he asked.
He didn’t want to ask. He wanted to instruct, and he wanted to get his way.
“Yes, I will. I’m not going to stop talking to her. I won’t lie either.”
“I’m not asking you to lie. I want you to consider what she has gone through to get you here. She needs me, and I need her,” he said. “You don’t have a single clue about what is going on with your sister. You assume everything, and you know what? That’s fine. Isabel can’t rely on you or anyone else.” In that moment, he hated Sophie, and every single person of Cape Falls.
“Edward? I don’t—”
“I don’t want to hear anything. I told you what to do, and if you value your sister for even a second, you’ll do as I say. I won’t ask again.”
“You love her?”
“Yeah, I do. I’ve got to go now.”
She said her goodbyes. Hanging up the phone, he stared across the room at where Isabel was sleeping. It took him several seconds to calm down, and to get his rage under control.
Three days ago, Peter had come to him and told him what happened. Edward didn’t know yet what was wrong or why Isabel suddenly withdrew, but he wanted to find out. All his friend had been doing was talking about his wife, and Isabel had changed. Why? After three days of being with her at Control, of talking her through the different kinds of submissives, and the different playrooms, he was no closer to discovering the truth. Entering her room, he sat down in a chair, looking at her. It was a little after eight in the morning, and she still looked so peaceful. She wore a long nightshirt that covered her arms, and landed to her knees. There was never any part of her exposed for long. The nightshirt covered her scars more than modesty.
When Peter called him he had been in William’s office talking with a doctor about her self-harm. Daisy had been there as well, and listened to the minimal advice that could be given. Self-harm was different for everyone, and had many different causes.
He didn’t think that Isabel’s was a cry for help. She didn’t ask or want help, and it hadn’t changed when he had taken over.
There was no abuse in her life either. Her parents simply didn’t care. She had no other problems to be concerned, and the doctor had advised that it was not about mental health. Anyone has the ability to self-harm.
This was such a complex situation. He didn’t want to think of it as a problem. This wasn’t a problem that needed to be solved. The doctor had warned that he may never stop her from repeating her same cycle, and if he tried anything too drastic, it could send her spiraling as a way of coping. She hadn’t hurt herself to the point of hospitalizing her, so in a weird way, she had control. Edward couldn’t understand it. If someone hurt themselves, then there had to be something wrong. Self-harming, it wasn’t like that. He hated this feeling of helplessness.
Edward believed from the brief information that Sophie had provided, and what Isabel had told him, and what he knew, that cutting was the only way she could express herself. The pain of the knife, the control, everything was in her hands, and she could finally feel or at least numb everything else. Lose her head, and just focus on the blade and her skin.
He had opened up her kit. It was so clean, so concise, and so chemical, her little box. There were sanitary wipes and fresh blades. There were no rusty blades. They were all sharp and ready to use. He doubted she ever used the same blade.
Isabel rolled over and released a little moan.
How could he help this woman?
She meant so much to him.
His friend had told him to start thinking about his feelings when it came to her. Isabel wasn’t just some woman he could use and discard. The very thought made him sick to his stomach.
He didn’t want to throw her away.
Edward wanted to keep her. He wanted to love her, and be loved by her.
Staring at the woman that had him in knots, he knew this went far beyond caring. He was connected with this woman. No matter what, he had to make sure she was safe, she was taken care of, and that she was loved. More than anything she was loved.
Isabel opened her eyes and smiled. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey, you.”
“What time it is?” she asked, rolling over and groaning, looking at the clock. “I slept in.”
“You did, and there’s no need to stress about it.”
“What about Control?”
“It’s our day off. I’ve got a good thing going with the boss so I can take any time off I need, and seeing as you belong to me, I can take you with me.” He got up from the chair, and made his way toward the bed. Sitting down on the bed, he reached out, pushing her hair off her face.