Page 165 of Unexpected Heroine

Glancing over my shoulder, I gaze longingly at my room. I could really go for a few minutes on my own. Could I handle it? Mind over matter, perhaps?

Only one way to find out.

Grabbing the water bottle from between my legs, I stand slowly and stretch my arms over my head. The achy twinge in my ribs distracts me from the fear over what I’m about to attempt. “I’m going to use the restroom.”

Freya and Stella both push back their chairs, preparing to get up. I stop them with my outstretched palm.

“I want to try to go on my own.”

Both their faces wax over with varying degrees of shock.

Stella’s expression quickly morphs from wide-eyed surprise to proud mama bear. “Nothing holds my girl down for long.” She grabs my hand for a quick squeeze before I leave the table.

I wish her words were true.

Each step I take away from the safety of the table feels like a mile. By the time I’m in my room and heading for the adjoining bathroom, my heart is in my throat. As are my stomach and all other vital organs.

Nonetheless, I won’t turn around.

My vision goes hazy, but I make it to the bathroom. Flipping on the light, I peek my head in and sweep from left to right, up and down. All clear.

Deep breath. In I go.

Choosing to leave the bathroom door open feels cowardly. But I do it anyway. Baby steps and all.

My knees are shaky when I drop my pants and lower to the toilet seat. Yet I’m not quitting. I’m not crying. And I’m not huddled in the corner.

A minute or so later, I’ve finished and am washing my hands at the sink when a soft voice from behind startles me. “Lettie, are you okay?”

Wiping my hands on a towel, I spin around to see Freya smiling tentatively from my bedroom doorway.

I raise my chin, injecting some confidence in my posture. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Look at me. I can go potty all by myself like a big girl.

Pathetic, Lettie.

“Atta girl,” she praises with a wink.

“You still trying out your Domme skills?” I tease, feeling a bit like myself.

Her cheeks turn ruddy. “I won’t be praising anybody for giving me that good dick any time soon. So you’ll have to satisfy my praise kink.”

I giggle behind my hand for one second. Two tops.

Until all joy is sucked from me like a vacuum when I’m suddenly run over with a truckload of sadness. Tears well in my eyes before I have time to stop them.

The hand that was hiding my giggle is now muffling my sobs. I move slowly to the bed and collapse onto my side. And I fucking cry.

Over hearing the words praise kink.

It was near the top of both our lists.

Freya joins me on the bed a second later. Stella after that. They make a Lettie sandwich and hold me through my breakdown.

When this latest round of Lettie’s Sadfest comes to a close, I wipe my cheeks and announce, “I want to go to that therapy place for professional help. I can’t do this on my own.”

“No offense taken,” Stella quips.

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