Page 7 of Own Me

I’m not surprised at her breaking down seeing all the patients with their trainers in the dining hall. She must feel alone and abandoned, like she doesn’t fit in here without her late partner.

Partner. Is that the correct word for him? They weren’t married, and I can’t quite figure out what their relationship was like aside from him being her Daddy Dom. There must have been a sexual aspect to their relationship, but I wonder how much of it was out of love rather than demand. Did she love him in the way we think love should be given and received?

That is what I’m here to find out. I’ll let her rest a little longer, but we have work to do today. I need to figure out how they met, and what their arrangement began as. It might take me a while to get all the answers I need, but it needs to be done in order for her to heal properly.

It’s late morning by the time she finally wakes up. Her eyes are still puffy from crying earlier, but she seems calm at the moment. After she fell asleep, I moved to the other side of the couch and worked on her care plan. I didn’t want to crowd her space or make her feel uncomfortable when she woke up.

“You didn’t have breakfast this morning. So you broke my only rule already.” She furrowed her brow and bit her lip; she was thinking about what to say. I can tell she always had to be careful about what she said when she was with him. What I am curious about is if she wasn’t careful about what kind of punishments she was given.

“I’m sorry, I—just couldn’t bring myself to be in there. With all of them.” She keeps eye contact. Good. I want to build that trust. Yesterday she wouldn’t even look at me.

“As hard as some of this will be, you need to be strong and learn to deal with hard things. I’m here to push your boundaries; make sure you can stand on your own two feet once you leave the facility.” I stand and walk to the bookshelf. I went out early this morning and bought her a diary. She can write whatever she feels, thinks, and wants but doesn’t want to say it out loud.

“I want you to use this to get everything you can’t say to me out of your head. I will read it, but I’ll never be upset or judge you. Since you have trouble speaking to me directly, I think this will help with our communication.” I hand her the brown leather diary, and she reluctantly takes it.

“Write down questions, concerns, things you want to do or try, dreams, goals. Anything, Shay. I have a feeling you weren’t able to do that for a very long time. You deserve to have a voice, and you will have me to listen.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Good. It’s almost lunchtime, but let’s talk a little first. Get some more rules in. Is there anything specific you want to talk about or need?”

Her brown eyes widened. “I want to go outside. Get some sun and fresh air. Please?” I smile at her almost childlike plea.

“We can go outside after you eat something. There’s a nice little trail on the property we can take a walk on.”

She smiles, nods, and sits up on the couch. The leather diary is held against her chest like she’s cherishing it.

“May I sit down beside you?” Consent is key with anyone. I want her to open up and trust me, not break down and close up. We have so little time as it is; I need to use it wisely.

“Of course,” she scoots over to the end nearest to me, and I sit on the other end of the couch.

“Do you like your room?”

“Yes. It’s perfect; just like I asked. Thank you,” she whispers. I can only see the side of her face.

“Do you feel comfortable here?” She nods.

“Is there anything else I should add? What do you think would complete this room?” I purposefully left out a coffee table and desk in hopes she would tell me what else she wants here.

“I think something in front of the couch would be good. A small table.”

“That can be arranged. If there’s anything else, feel free to let me know. I saw one in storage that will fit the room nicely. Now—ready for some lunch?” She turns her head in my direction and nods. “Use your words, Shay.”

“Yes. I’m hungry.” She whispers.

Chapter Five

SHAY

I brought the notebook Rayne gave me with us to the dining area for lunch. It’s so bright and sunny out; maybe after our walk, I can sit on the grass and write a bit in it. He said he would be reading what I write, and that’s fine; I just want somewhere to get all of my thoughts out.

I’ve always liked writing; ever since I was a kid, I liked to imagine different scenarios, characters, and stories and write them down. Even when I lived with Arin, I would create stories in my head, but I would never write them down. I was afraid. Afraid Arin would think less of me, that he would tell me I was being silly, and not in a way that he enjoyed.

I wasn’t allowed to do anything creative; most days I felt like a pretty prop he was free to use when he was bored. I would sit in my room, lost in my own thoughts, for hours until he came to let me out. Sometimes I imagined I was a beautiful princess stuck in a castle all alone until my Prince Charming would come and rescue me.

Stupid, I know.

I had dreams of going to school for creative writing; of sharing my stories with the world. Instead, I was kept away from the world, shut in, and only taught how to please my master. It’s been so long since I’ve been on my own, and I’m afraid I won’t like it and find myself living life as I have for the last 13 years.