The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline(41)
Sebastian pulled up outside the house and gave my hand a quick squeeze. “Text me later? Let me know you’re all right?”
I nodded and pulled my hand away.
I stumbled up the driveway and crept around to the back of the house, peeking in through the window. I breathed a sigh of relief: David was still asleep on the couch and snoring loudly.
I took off my pumps and tiptoed through backdoor, feeling all colors of guilty, but oddly exultant at the same time.
In the bedroom, everything was as I’d left it; a lipstick on the dressing table and a comb abandoned by David’s side of the bed, which hadn’t been slept in.
It was nearly 7 am and although my body ached for sleep, and really just ached from using muscles that had never before seen the light of day, I ignored the bed and headed for the bathroom. I badly needed to pee. Sebastian had had no qualms about wandering off into the dunes during the night to relieve himself, but I hadn’t quite been able to be that free with him. Luckily I hadn’t drunk much during the evening, so I’d been able to hold on.
I showered quickly, enjoying the hot water on my skin, and washed off the last of the sand that had managed to work itself into a number of interesting crevices.
I wondered if Sebastian’s parents would comment on his absence—or the fact that the car had been missing all night. But then again, the state they’d been in when he’d taken them home, I doubted they would have noticed much at all. I hoped that was the case.
As I dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and old shirt, I heard David stirring next door. I didn’t know how I was going to do this—to go on deceiving him, to carry on living the lie. I wondered again if I could contemplate the alternative, or could I weather the next four months.
I took a deep breath and walked into the living room. David peered at me through bleary eyes, grunted and rolled into a sitting position.
“Coffee?” I said, a little too brightly.
He eyed me suspiciously. “Where have you been?”
“Showering,” I said, breezily.
My hands shook slightly as I put the water on to boil.
“Bacon? Pancakes?”
From the corner of my eye I saw David pull a face and he didn’t reply. I couldn’t help feeling a sharp sense of satisfaction that he was suffering with a hangover. If things ran true to form, he’d spend the rest of the day in his study.
I hoped Sebastian would be able to get a couple of hours sleep—he started his new job today. It was only bussing tables at a country club outside of La Jolla, but it would keep him out of his parents’ way and meant he’d eventually have enough money to buy a car—especially if tips kept up, as Ches had promised.
I had the interesting task of cleaning the house and erasing the evidence of occupation so it would pass David’s undoubtedly close inspection later on.
The day dragged almost unbearably. The only bright side was that David stayed out of my way. I managed to send Sebastian a quick text halfway through the morning. David was in the shower and I was vacuuming his study. I had just a few minutes.
* I’m ok. Hope all good with you? *
I waited anxiously for his reply but my cell stayed ominously silent. When I heard David dressing in the bedroom, I turned it off.
Throughout the day, I checked it intermittently, my anxiety increasing with every hour that passed. I finally got a reply late in the evening.
* Sorry, baby. Got called in to start work early.
Weird place! Tomorrow? Please say yes. *
He called me ‘baby’!
I wondered why the place was weird. Yes, tomorrow. God, that seemed a long time from now.
I felt better after reading his message, but was sad that I had to delete it immediately. But my sense of well-being evaporated when it was time to go to bed. With my husband.
I was reading a book: well, I was trying to concentrate but the words swam in front of my eyes. I switched off the light and turned on my side, hoping this would protect me. My breathing was shallow and I tried to slow it down to appear as if I were really resting. I felt the bed shift and couldn’t help holding my breath. David leaned over and ran his hand over my hip.
“Not tonight, David,” I said, trying to speak naturally. “I’m tired. Last night was very late.”
Especially for me.
“You’re not menstruating—what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Hmm.”
He didn’t say anything else but rolled to his side of the bed. I breathed slowly. Soon he was snoring, but it was much later that I was able to relax enough to sleep.
I was awake before the alarm—occasionally David liked to be jerked off before breakfast and I wanted to avoid that particular scenario.