Buying the Virgin

Chapter 57: The Girl Who Came Back - Chapter Thirteen

Steaming mug in hand, I pick up a large beach towel and, at the last moment, a cushion as well, and walk out onto the beach. Sitting on my towel and my cushion, I cradle the mug, staring out to sea.

There is only the slightest of breezes, blowing wisps of hair around my face, and the only sound is the rushing of the surf, a little way away.

The night is bright and moonlit, bright enough that I cast a shadow on the sands.

What did I do wrong?

I want to cry….

“May I join you?”

It is my Master. I do not speak, just shuffle up the towel to make room for him, wincing at the sting in my buttocks.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte. I owe you an apology.”

“Master?”

“You didn’t do anything. None of us can help how we feel inside. It’s how we deal with those reactions that counts. And I didn’t deal well with my own reactions today.”

I gulp down my milk, not knowing what to say.

“That smells good.”

“Would you like some of it, Master? Or I can make some more.”

“In a while, perhaps.”

Trivial words…. they don’t mean anything…

“If had been just you that was angry at me Master, it would have been bad enough, but when Michael was mad at me too, I thought…”

“I love you, Charlotte. Perhaps too much.”

I gulp another mouthful.

Michael loves you

does.” says a voice from

towel ruffles up next to me, settling on

knew that how James reacted wasn’t right, but I let him do it anyway because I was jealous

just do what any sane woman would do: be polite and remember that he’s a married

incidentally,” says Michael, “has a reputation for adoring his wife;

I nod, unspeaking.

says my Master. “Come

stare out to sea, not looking at either of them. After a few minutes’ awkward silence,

I doing

two men? Tries to

go…. I could make an early start on next year’s

the house, pack my laptop and a few other essentials into a rucksack. My clothes are mainly upstairs in the bedroom. I don’t want to go in

my stoutest shoes, walking boots I packed in case we went hiking in the mountains, I sling the rucksack over my shoulder. Slipping the two rings from my finger, I leave them on the mantle

I recall a twenty-four-hour diner at about the halfway point. When I get there, I can stop to eat and sleep a bit. Once I get to the rail station, I

is not lit, but in the clear night, I can’t get lost. If push comes to shove, all I need to do is keep the sea to my right and I’ll end up in the City. But there is

my breath, I sit up to see Michael and my Mast…. no,

well?” asks

“No, not really. What are you two doing

here?” says James. “What are you doing here? You scared the

well, back to college

“Like this? Walking?”

the station. They have trains there, you

car. We can

we can’t. I’m

about last night, back at the house, where we have some privacy.” Already, I can see the woman serving at the bar, watching us warily. I see her mutter something to a man stacking dishes into

you have surrendered the authority to tell me

very quiet,

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