Epilogue
It's the last weekend of our three month contract and I am more than hopeful that we are going to agree an extension. We simply have to extend the contract because my life without him doesn't bare thinking about.
In anticipation of the weekend ahead I am suitably plucked and waxed to within an inch of my life all thanks to Greta at Mrs Lincoln's salon. After I have checked my weekend bag for the last time I zip it up and head for the door, grabbing the keys to my shiny new Audi A3 from the side table. As I reach the door handle, my phone starts to buzz. Damn, I can't be late; Sir will not stand for tardiness. Oh but the punishment would be so sweet. Glancing at the screen I don't recognise the number but answer anyway "Leila Williams" I state as I check out my hair in the mirror adjacent to the door.
"Ma'am its Taylor. Unfortunately Mr Grey is unavailable to see you this weekend." he states flatly.
As soon as he said the word "unfortunately" it felt like I had drank a gallon of ice cold water and my stomach plummeted. Why? Is he going off me? Does he already have a new submissive lined up? I am convinced he has started to have feelings for me, granted not as strong as the feelings I have for him but he just needs time to realise how great we would be together. We could be happy; I could make him happy, if he would just let me.
"Goodbye Ma'am" Taylor ends the call not even waiting for my response. He has never liked me but he has always been polite, that was just plain fucking rude.
I am still holding the phone to my ear as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my long brown hair is a stark contrast to my now pale and drawn face and a single tear rolls down my cheek. I know what is coming, it's over. I just know it, I don't know how but I do. I can feel the fibres of my heart ripping apart and with the realisation that I am never going to see him again I can't stop my physical reaction and vomit all over my Louboutin heels.
The following Monday I receive the paperwork confirming that our agreement will not be extended, Mr Grey has kindly offered to financially support my art classes and I can keep the Audi. I stare at the formal notification of termination. I can't breathe, I squeeze my eyes closed willing myself not to cry anymore. I have done nothing but cry since Friday evening. When I open my eyes I realise that I have screwed the letter into a ball and I am clenching my jaw. This is not over. You will let me love you.
