Page 34 of Reclaimed

I couldn’t work out from his tone what his plan was. He’d said he wouldn’t punish me, so he couldn’t be going to get a whip or anything, could he? He hadn’t seemed angry. I felt like I was never going to win with Ray. We’d had sex, I’d done everything he’d asked, I’d tried to keep my emotions from him, I’d accepted his punishment without complaint, I’d tried to be the compliant girl he wanted me to be – and yet, I still had to be constantly wary of his anger.

But when Ray returned, his features were soft, and he was only holding a notebook and pen. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to set you up outside with some tea, and you are going to write down everything that is in your head in here.” He held up the notebook. “You can stay out there as long as you need to, and I won’t interfere. When you feel clearer about everything, you will write one page, which you will let me read. Everything else we will burn.”

“You’re not going to read it all?”

“No, this is for you, to help you feel better. I need you to feel like you can write about this honestly without any fear of repercussions. I need to know the basics, but I’ll let you work out what you think I need to know so I can look after you, and the rest, you can keep to yourself.”

I was surprised at his lenience. I hadn’t expected him to allow me such freedom, and I couldn’t help but experience a rush of gratitude to him for understanding me so well. We made up a flask of tea, and Ray set me up with a picnic rug in the garden, so I could sit leaning against the oak tree. Before leaving, Ray knelt beside me and kissed my cheek.

“You know where I am if you need me.”

*

Ray had been right. Something about having physical space away from him helped me have more mental space to process my thoughts. It was the first time since I’d been there that I had been alone without the constant background worry that Ray would appear. I finally didn’t feel the need to be on guard, or to monitor myself; I could just be. Ray had said he’d give me as much time as I needed, and I believed him. Whether I liked it or not – and indeed, working that out was part of the problem – we were going to be having sex again, and probably very soon. It was in both of our interests to make sure I could process my feelings around it. Ray certainly wasn’t going to slow down his plans to wait for me to catch up, but at least he was giving me this time. Given the current state of things, that felt comparatively considerate.

I wrote pages and pages. I had to stop frequently to nurse my aching hand. From the moment I opened the door, everything just came spilling out onto the pages. It was a good thing Ray wasn’t going to read it – firstly, because it was unflinchingly honest, and secondly, because it was all over the place. The jumble of emotions and questions and wonderings in that book were a direct reflection of the turmoil inside my head, and it was absolute chaos. It was hard work to condense it down in a way that might be comprehensible – and hopefully acceptable – to Ray, but I settled on a list of ‘I feel’ statements:

I feel ashamed that I gave in

I feel guilty for betraying David

I feel angry that you put me in this situation

I feel disgusted with myself for enjoying it

I feel relieved that the first time is now done

I feel uncertain about where I stand with you now

I’m worried about the next time

I’m unsure how you feel about me

I wish things weren’t like this

I feel old affection for you, which makes things more confusing

I feel weak for not fighting you more

I feel nervous about trusting you

I miss home

I feel pathetic for not being able to get out of this situation

I feel grateful that you didn’t hurt me

I feel surprised at how caring you have been

I hate that you know me so well

I feel overwhelmed at having so many emotions at once

I feel vulnerable sharing all this with you

Looking at that list I didn’t know how I could ever possibly come to terms with it all. I felt like I was more in conflict with myself than I was with Ray. Every single emotion I experienced was accompanied by its exact opposite – how was I supposed to know which one was real? Did it make sense for both to be real?

I read over the list several times, tweaking the wording slightly and trying to anticipate what Ray’s reaction would be to each one. This whole exercise would be pointless if I wasn’t honest, but I was still wary of phrasing anything in a way that might provoke him. Eventually, I took a deep breath and tore out my final version. I got up and went inside to find Ray, hugging the notebook to my chest, still ever so slightly concerned that he might break his promise and insist on seeing it. I found him in his room.

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