Page 58 of Valentine's Slave

Ava pauses. “I mean, he worked a lot. He was a firefighter, and he had a side gig on his days off. He was there for family stuff, but it’s not like we really talked.”

“That’s what I’m referring to,” I explain. “It doesn’t sound like he was emotionally connective. And how about you and your sister’s boyfriends, were they emotionally connective?”

“Not by a long shot.” She pauses. “Wait—are you saying there’s a connection?”

“Now you have something new to look into and learn about.” I’m careful not to sound condescending. I want to help her, just like the person who helped me. “This is about attachment theory. I had no idea it had affected my childhood until Marco finally got me to look into it. Perhaps it could do you some good as well.”

“What’s your attachment style?” she asks.

“Avoidant,” I say. I’m not exactly trying to fix it. I just don’t see the need. I’m aware of it, and that’s more than enough.

“Let me guess, you’ve accepted it.” Ava cracks a smile.

“Exactly.” It is within my control, therefore making it my responsibility. But it’s not harming anyone, and I’m happy with things as they are.

“And you don’t want to change it,” Ava adds, hesitating.

“I’m alone, and I’ve accepted that. Nothing else matters.”

“But you said you improve in other areas of your life,” she says.

I nod. “I always want to learn. Sometimes it hurts to learn things about yourself that could be termed as ‘negative’, but if you recognize and accept these things, that means you take responsibility for them. And when you take responsibility for who you are and what you do, it gives you the power to change and grow, to make yourself whatever and whoever you want to be.”

“Okay, but you still want to be alone.”

“Correct.”

And then, her stomach growls.

“I think someone needs some more fuel before I fuck her again,” I suggest, grinning down at her. I lean forwards and give her a kiss, and she beams.

“Hey, I thought you said no kissing, though. What’s up with that?”

I chuckle. “I make the rules, Ava. And that means that I can also break them.”

She basically throws herself at me, pressing her lips against mine, her hands tangled in my hair. I feel her warmth, her body, her tongue wrestling with mine, and it’s paradise, a paradise I’m going to enjoy in full until the end.

* * *

Early morning on February 14th, I leave Ava still sleeping sweetly in bed. After making my coffee, I sit on the balcony and meditate. But my mind is scattered in a thousand different corners. There’s a weight on my chest that I can’t ignore. Distracted, I look up the band Ava brought her nephew to, Bring Me the Horizon. Just out of curiosity, I click into the first song that comes up,Can You Feel My Heart.

I close my eyes as I listen. I stop drinking my coffee. I play the song again, and then again. I’m not too into rock or metal or whatever this group is, but the words jump out at me. The urgency. The intensity.

Fuck, it’s Ava. Since this thing started, it’s always been Ava.

All at once, I feel wild. Ecstasy skates through my veins, as if I’m high again, and for the first time this morning, I can think clearly.

It’s her. That’s the answer to all my questions. All this time, I’ve been telling myself it’s just about the sex, but that wasn’t true. I want her more than ever, more than anything.

The high only lasts for a minute until I crash with the low, the anger, the fury. I’m weak. I can’t. I won’t. I vowed I never would again. Not after what happened. I’m happy on my own. I’ve only ever been happy on my own. I won’t let Ava won’t walk into my life and ruin it in a week. I won’t let her make me feel like a horny teenage boy. I won’t lose everything I’ve achieved all these years just because of a stupid feeling. I don’t want to feel my heart, and I don’t want to feel hers. I want to fuck her, and I want to keep fucking her until she’s no longer mine.

She wakes up 10 a.m., and I hardly look at her. No kiss, no breakfast. She’s not getting any of it from me anymore. She’s my slave, my sex toy, and by the end of tonight, she will understand that.

I give her free time and make sure she leaves the premises. Marco hasn’t stopped calling me, and finally, after Ava leaves and I work out for an hour, I take his call.

“What?” My voice is low. I hate that ever since Ava stepped out the door, every cell in my body has been wild to follow her, find her and drag her back to me. I’m weak, and it disgusts me. But tonight, things will be different. Tonight, will be all whips and pain and torture and pleasure, enough to put every thought out of both our heads.

Marco breathes into the phone, taking his time, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world and didn’t just call me five times over the last two days.

---