Resist (Songs of Submission #6) by CD Reiss

day would be clear to the horizon, where sky met sea.
    “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Jessica asked.
    “More of a tea person.”
    Jessica made a mmm sound, as if my choice of hot beverage spoke volumes about my worth as a human being. Of course, that was my imagination. Her face betrayed nothing. “I’ll have some made. Decaf? It’s late.”
    She’ll have some made? Did the staff not get time off? Did they work in shifts? Well, if that was my new life, if those were the entitlements one was to expect, then I was going to be as considerate as possible.
    “Caffeinated is fine. Doesn’t bother me. And green, if you have it.”
    “Would you like to sit outside?” She indicated the back.
    “Sure.”
    She opened the sliding door to a patio and flipped a switch. Heating torches went up, lights went on. I nodded and walked out. I sat on a chair, listening to the ocean I knew was there but couldn’t see. I had trouble imagining having access to such a patio every night and being at anything but complete peace. Or was that what she feared? That losing the money to maintain the patio, the house, the studio meant she couldn’t be at peace? I imagined the level of anxiety I’d face if the things that kept me sane were taken away. My voice. My ears. Even my piano, with its broken pedal, was a rock I held tight when I felt anxious. Jonathan removing that much of her income had thrown her off a cliff, made her panic. Cornered her. Poorly thought out for a man who controlled everything at all times.
    Even with the torches, it was chilly. I realized then, too late, that I didn’t have my scarf. The crew neck on my tee was relatively tight, but my bruises were visible with even the most minor inspection.
    It was darker at the chair across from me. But Jessica was coming. She’d see me move to a darker corner.
    I reminded myself to always remember the rules about Jessica, especially rule number one. Fuck her. It wasn’t about her. It was about protecting Jonathan from her little rat eyes.
    I moved to the dark corner.
    “So,” Jessica said as she closed the door, cradling a manila envelope.
    I looked at her linen slacks and button-down white shirt again. Maybe she’d just gotten back from somewhere, or maybe she and Jonathan were partners in their sleep habits, hanging out until all hours and waking up after what most people would consider a nap. Maybe they used to stay up all night giggling and sharing stories, all dressed to the nines, not a hair out of place.
    I had to shake myself out of my thoughts. “I’m sorry to come so late, but it seemed like everything was conspiring against us meeting.”
    “‘Everything’ being Jonathan?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Did you ask him?”
    “No.” Her question had been so direct and her tone so kind, yet condescending that I started to understand why Jonathan didn’t want me near her.
    An older woman in a black dress came out with a tea tray and left silently. Jessica poured tea into two white cups that were so plain, they must have cost a fortune.
    “I understand why you don’t want to ask him. He can be intimidating.”
    I didn’t answer. I still didn’t know if I was playing rabbit-in-the-woods or qualified-to-kink, so I just poured myself tea. “I’m sorry I was rude to you when I saw you last.”
    She waved it away. “I understand. I came on too strong. I assumed you were naturally curious.”
    I consciously, and with great effort, let the insult slide. I’d asked for it, considering I hadn’t asked him the details of blocking me from seeing her and I had aggressively avoided Jonathan-bashing at Frontage. “This is a very nice house. The view must be incredible in the daytime.”
    “It is. You can see all the way to the horizon. It’s cooler too, with the breeze coming in.”
    “Have you lived here long?”
    She smiled a little, and I wondered if she could see that I was feeling her out. “Erik and I moved here after I left Jonathan. It was far away