Page 80 of Flock
Shuddering at the thought, I close the balcony doors and press my forehead against them. “Christmas came early, Cecelia, and guess what? You’re a ho,” I bang my head against the door with each word. “Ho,” bang, “Ho,” bang. Face burning, I send out another mental lash of the whip. My back should be nothing but lacerated and bleeding flesh with the number of imaginary whippings I’ve given myself. Still, the only thing reddening is my face as I blush and again relive every second on the float. My dreams of them the past few nights are vivid and downright sinful in nature. They’ve invaded me in both my waking and sleeping hours and I haven’t lived a single moment past those minutes I shared with them on the lake.
Sean’s texts are vague—they always are—but he sends them often. He’s been helping his parents at the restaurant this week, and because of my self-enforced slut-shaming, I again missed the opportunity to meet them.
What in the hell am I going to say?
“Hi, I’m Cecelia. So nice to finally meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Roberts. Why, yes, I am the tramp ass ho having wild, animalistic sex with your son amongst the trees. Why, just the other day we tossed his best friend into the mix—it was quite delightful. And your green bean casserole is delish.”
With every text, I can tell Sean’s making an effort to let me know he’s not going anywhere. He doesn’t want my head to get the best of me.
And I love him for that.
But what of love?
Thinking of this situation long term would be beyond foolish. But Sean hinted heavily, more than once, that if I wanted to commit to him, he wouldn’t be opposed to it.
Maybe it was a one-time thing.
The idea of belonging solely to Sean appeals to me greatly. He’s more than enough. But did that act set me up to be greedy for more? I’ve bitten into the forbidden fruit, and with that knowledge comes the unrelenting urge to sink my teeth in again.
Sean knew it was a possibility, and he’d alluded to as much.
Do I really want to let the static chemistry with Dominic go if I don’t have to?
And being with the two of them and watching their reactions . . . I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
But how many more lashings can I handle? It’s only been days, and I’ve all but burned myself at the stake.
I’m not that girl.
I’m not that girl.
I’m now that girl.
The one constant that eats at me is that if this is something they do on the regular, can I condemn the women before me?
Hell no, and I hate that. But I want to. So much. Jealousy burns me at the knowledge I’m not the first. Yet in a way, it makes me feel less alone because I share a secret with them.
But what’s become of them?
Am I different?
Damn them both.
They have to know what a head trip this is. I doubt Dominic cares, but Sean knows, and he’s waiting on my verdict.
It’s another decision.
Restless, I turn on the shower and try to drown my anxious thoughts out with the spray of water.
The morals we’re taught early on are meant to guide us, and without them, we’re directionless. But Sean doesn’t follow the norm or the guidelines that most of society adheres to. He’s an independent thinker who navigates his life by his gut, living decision by decision.
He lives unapologetically in the grey. So does Dominic. But what can that mean long term?
What of soulmates? The love of your life? Your one and only? These sayings exist for a reason as well. One.
One man, one woman, or one partner for everyone.
Not two. There’s “The One.” Not “The Two.”
