Just A Woman (Marina: Part Two: Naughty Nookie Series) by Serena Akeroyd Page B

apparitions at the
back of my mind.  I guess I’ll need to beat them in there.  Carve
them on to my synapses like a name on a headstone.
    Christ, what a
thought!
    “Good. 
You’re learning.  I expect you to make mistakes, Marina.  The more
you learn, the more rules you’ll be taught.  It’s the way it works. 
That isn’t to say I don’t demand perfection.  Because I do.  And
every time you fail me, you’ll be punished.  But more than that, you’ll
feel bad about not doing your best for me.  That you felt it so early on,
as soon as this morning is very pleasing.  I’m proud of you, Marina. 
Very, very proud.”
    Tears burst into
my eyes like a shattering cloud showering the countryside with rain.  That
guilt, that horrible emptiness inside that came from knowing I’d deceived him, broken
his rules disappears.  And it’s a wonderful feeling.  That and the
acknowledgment that he’s proud of me?  I feel like I’m floating.
    It doesn’t escape
my notice that a week ago, the notion of Nate being proud of me would have made
me smile, grin a little and be smug that my man was proud to have me on his
arm.  But this, now , I’m walking on air.
    I don’t understand
it.  Maybe I never will, but it could be something I’m not supposed to
understand.  Nate said my submissiveness was buried deep down, so entrenched
in my nature that only being with him exposed it.
    I’ve never
believed in fate before, or karma, but he’s right. 
    God help me, he’s
right.
     
    ****
     
    The weird
guilt/shame trip bubbled through me all day, spoiling the tour of the commune
in a way I can’t even describe, because I don’t understand it myself.  I
should have enjoyed seeing the new addition to the laboratories and the
extension to the art studios that now have two walls made from glass to improve
the quality of light in the atrium.  I should have felt pleasure in
knowing that these additions and improvements occurred under my distant
leadership, because these things went with my say so.  I even had
architects draw up the plans in Manhattan and had a local builder and tradesmen
carry out the work.  Instead, I wasn’t interested.
    Every part of my
focus was turned inward, to what I’d done that morning.  And the worst
part was knowing only the punishment would release me from the bubble of shame
growing inside me. 
    Feeling this way
isn’t my thing.  I’m a live and let live person.  Do or die. 
Shame is for people who like to wear hair shirts for daring to live a
little.  That isn’t me. 
    So, making the
introductions to new folk and greeting those I’ve known since childhood
occurred under a rather strange cloud.  I’d say the majority of people
who’ve known me a long time were probably wondering what the hell was the
matter with me.  Had life in the big city managed to separate me from a
personality? 
    No, a night in
Nate’s bedroom has done that.
    Or, it has for the
moment, at any rate.
    It’s strange,
because I was kind of dreading reconnecting with all these people, but with my
mind focused elsewhere, it wasn’t the challenge I imagined.  I’ve too much
to think about at the moment.  What with this Thoroughbred stabling issue…
and even in the Twilight Zone, I haven’t failed to notice Uncle Sam or Jase are
nowhere to be seen ̶ they’re definitely ducking out of the
spotlight.  Ha!  As if their absence will stop my righteous fury at what
Sam has done.  I want to tackle Nate over this idea, but with this new
dynamic between us, I daren’t.  Things have turned so complicated, I feel
like I’m living in a maze and at the moment, I’m very lost and I don’t want to
lose myself even further.
    These things can be
dealt with tomorrow or the next day or the day after that.  The commune
can wait, for as always, it’s running like clockwork.  The people here are
too intelligent to let the place that nurtures them fall into disrepair, even
if Nate has been away for a month.