She glanced at Landry and noticed he’d opened his eyes again. A faint smile painted his face.
Then he winked at her.
They helped him get dressed after they finished speaking with the doctor. Cris helped him into a waiting wheelchair then hurried out to get her car and bring it to the front door.
Landry apparently didn’t care the nurse waiting with them could hear every word. He reached up and patted Tilly’s hand, which rested on his shoulder. “So I did hear you right that you and slave worked things out between you? Or was that wishful thinking on my part, combined with the effects of the anesthesia?”
She struggled not to laugh at the nurse’s shocked expression. Tilly leaned in and kissed the top of his head. “I think you’re still a little zonked out, but yeah, Cris and I have worked out our differences.”
“Good.” He squeezed her hand again.
A thought hit her and she knelt beside him to whisper in his ear. “Even though you said it wasn’t, this was all about getting me and Cris back together, wasn’t it?”
“No. I told you it wasn’t.” He kissed her. “But if I don’t make it,” he whispered, “I know you’ll keep him going for me, won’t you?”
It slammed home, finally. Landry didn’t think Cris could survive it alone if Landry died.
“You’re not dying, dammit.”
He stroked her cheek. “Promise me if I do that you won’t let him kill himself. That you’ll take care of him for me. You’ll keep him going for me.”
She couldn’t feel mad at him. Not when he looked like shit and there wasn’t a hint of Masterly demeanor in him at the moment. “You’re not dying, you stubborn man.”
“Please, promise me.”
She sighed. “I won’t abandon him like he did me, if that’s your worry.”
“Thank you, love.”
She sat in the backseat with Landry while Cris drove. Landry’s face looked years older than the day before. He lay with his head in her lap. At one point she realized he’d fallen asleep.
When she looked forward, she caught Cris’ gaze in the rearview mirror. Part of her hated she still felt that little spark his gaze could light in her.
They got Landry settled in bed in her bedroom. After he fell asleep again, she changed clothes and walked out to the kitchen where Cris was already preparing something.
She felt drained, exhausted. She sat at the table. “Do you mind if I just sit here?”
He turned to her, a playful smile on his face. “Why would I mind? It’s your house. This is my job.”
He’d already put his leather collar and wrist cuffs back on and stood there wearing no clothes other than his jeans. “I know what he said, but let’s get serious. I don’t expect you to be my slave, Cris.”
“You and I lived twenty-four/seven. Why do you think I would have a problem doing it now?”
“This isn’t the same.”
“It is, in a way.”
“Does it bother you that he broke his promise to you?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He married me. He fucked me. He brought someone else into your relationship.”
He leaned against the counter and pondered his response for a long moment. “I don’t see it that way.”
“Because it’s me?”
He slowly nodded. “Yeah. I think so. If it’d been someone else, anyone else, I would have been pissed even though I think I deserve it.”
“He loves you.”
“I know he does. If he didn’t, he would have kicked me to the curb.” He turned back to the counter.
“We have to work together to take care of him.”
“I totally agree.”
“If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell him I told you?”
His shoulders tightened. She recognized that gesture. He finally turned back to her. “I can’t make you that promise,” he said. “I’m sorry. I can’t hold anything back from him ever again. I won’t get a third chance with him.”
Fuck. “Fine. If I hadn’t agreed to this, he was going to release you without telling you about his cancer.”
Cris looked shocked. “What?”
“Yeah. Because since he found out about me, part of him worries that the only reason you came back to him is because he was a pity fuck, in his words. He didn’t want you to feel obligated to stay. If I wouldn’t be here to help, he didn’t want you going through it alone. I think he also worries that you wouldn’t want to go on if he died and left you alone.”
He closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. “That’s not why I went back to him. Jesus. I really fucked shit up, didn’t I?”
“Ya think?”
He looked at her. “I know he tried to kill himself, Til. He’s a damn good driver. The Highway Patrol said it looked like he deliberately aimed for the tree. He never hit the brakes. There were no skid marks. Clear night, no traffic, he was stone cold sober, and he’s damn lucky the car had OnStar. They called it in. Saved his life.”
Time for her to feel shocked. “He doesn’t think you know that. I made him tell me about the accident. He made me swear not to tell you.”
He laughed, long and hard. “Jesus, we Doms are a bunch of assholes sometimes, aren’t we?”
“Again, ya think?”
His eyes traveled her face. “I knew he wouldn’t fight the cancer,” he softly admitted. “Not after that. He didn’t have anyone. It’s not that I loved him more than you, or that I felt sorry for him. I…” He picked at his fingers. “Put yourself in my place, Til. Yeah, I handled it absolutely the wrong way. I admit that. But even though I was your Master, I was still, in my heart, his slave. I always have been.
Even though I loved you, I never stopped loving him. I prayed Ross would take care of you until you grew strong enough to take care of yourself. But I knew you could, eventually, take care of yourself just as surely as I knew he wouldn’t. I couldn’t let him die. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I turned my back on him when I knew he would willingly die otherwise. I made the best choice I thought I could, even though I know it was a horrible situation for you. I’m sorry.”
She felt a wave of anger and grief try to overtop her mental walls. She fought it back. “I wore Ross’ collar for six months. The only thing he required me to do was live, to lean on them. I was allowed to remove the collar for good once I could promise him and Loren that I wouldn’t hurt myself and that I could make it on my own. He never topped me. No one else has ever topped me.”
He didn’t respond.
“Would you have left me if we were married?” She didn’t want to know, and yet she felt she had to have the question answered once and for all so she could quit worrying at it like a dog with a bone.
He took a long time to answer. “I don’t know. I would like to be able to say no, I wouldn’t have left, but that would be a lie because I honestly don’t know what I would have done.” He sighed. “So the only reason you’re with him is because he forced you? Because of me?”
“No. I made the decision based on what’s right. He’s a nice guy. I do think the two of you need some serious work on your communication skills.”
His smile looked sad. “Maybe you can help us with that. Keep us in line.”
“Fuckin’ A.”
He turned back to the counter to prepare dinner. From the ingredients he’d assembled, she assumed some sort of soup.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked. “You and me. I don’t know how to deal with you. Part of me wants to beat your fucking brains out and part of me…” She couldn’t continue as guilt swept through her again.
“I’ve already got more than I dreamed I could have.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “I never thought I would ever have your forgiveness. Anything else I consider a bonus.”