Page 21 of Edging Obsession

I unclasp the handcuffs, toss the blindfold, and sit back on my heels to release her ankles. She stares at me in a state of bliss while I kiss her along her neck, jaw, cheekbones, finishing on her mouth.

“I loved it, Miles.”

I smile against her neck. “Good. You’ll get more of it.” My arms slip around her back, and I roll us off the bed into a standing position. We get ready and go downstairs to find Anna placing the food on the table.

“Good morning, Mat—Miles and Jules.”

Jules looks at me, then at her, and says, “Good morning, Anna. Did you just call him Matt?”

She fans her hand in front of her face and laughs. “Yes. I’m forever calling people by the wrong name. I apologize.”

I give Anna a stern look. Her explanation seems to satisfy Jules, who takes a seat at the table.

“This food looks delicious…and there’s so much.”

“I wasn’t sure what you like to eat for breakfast, so I made a little of everything. Once I learn what you eat, then I’ll make it for you.”

Jules sits, not knowing where to begin. I place some eggs, sausage, and a pancake on her plate. “Start with this.”

“You know I eat oatmeal.”

Like a child, I scold her. “Anna didn’t prepare any, so don’t make her feel bad. Eat what’s on your plate.”

Jules nods and takes small bites of each item. From the amount of weight she’s lost, she hasn’t eaten much over the past weeks. I spoon some fruit into a bowl for her and she throws me a kiss.

After breakfast, I show her the rest of the house: my home office, the library, a small movie theater, a recording studio, and a game room. Her mouth is wide open the entire time. Oohs and aahs ooze from her.

“This place is incredible. Everything’s here. You don’t even have to leave the house.”

“You’ll have plenty to do if I’m working and when you’re not with the therapist.”

She hugs me, placing her chin on my chest. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not. We’ll be here for a month and then fly to Europe.”

For the rest of the morning, Jules is clingy because she’s unsure of herself, doesn’t know what to do, or wants some physical comfort. I’m not one who enjoys needy women, but Jules is different. It’s clear she has to work through her insecurities.

When her parents, Elise and Elliott, arrive, Jules is napping. The depression and medication make her fatigued between her sexual appetite. Elise is in awe of my home, so I give them a tour and we wind up outside on the terrace. With drinks in hand, they get comfortable on the overstuffed lounging couch. I light a cigarette, filling my lungs with smoke, and blow it away from them. It calms me. We soak in the sounds and smells of the forest and lake. Birds chirp and flit from branch to branch. Water sloshes around the rocks, dock, and boats. The scent of pine fills the air.

Elliott cuts off the stillness. “Miles, there’s something we must discuss with you.” Here it goes. Elliott’s not going to ease up on Jules living here. He glances at Elise and turns back to me. “It’s about our relationship with Jules.”

I hold a hand up. “Yes, I get it. You’re all close.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

I readjust in the seat, take one last inhale, and smash the cigarette into the ashtray. Anna comes out to inform us lunch will be served in an hour. Once she disappears into the house, Elliott tells me about their concerns, and Jules comes outside right when Elliott finishes saying, “We’re unsure what to do.”

11

When I approach the glass doors, I hear my dad saying to Miles, “We’re unsure what to do.” Once they see me, all discussion ceases, and they act as if I’m the topic of conversation. I step into the silent muck, eyes meeting my mom and dad’s until they glance at each other. Miles watches my timid walk, wearing a faint smile. My arms hug against my body. Their demeanor, reed straight backs, hands sewn to their sides, causes an unease to infiltrate me. I’m by the side of the couch where my dad is sitting.

My eyebrows crumple and my lip quivers. “What’s wrong?”

Mom pats the couch between them, so I shuffle over and sit down. She hums in my ear the song she sang to me when I was little. They scoot closer, both resting their arms on the back of the couch behind me.

Dad slides his hand over my arm. “Sweetheart, do you know how much we love you?” I nod, offering a weak smile. “We love you so much we’d do anything for you. You’re everything to us.”

Mom cuts in, “Dad’s right.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “The day you came into our lives, everything changed for the better. You’re our own little sunshine.”

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