Realizing stufffff

44. Isabella

A collar.

He bought me a fucking collar. And I ran away like a little child. What the fuck is wrong with me?

It's late, but not that late, so I drive over to Rose's, hoping she's home. When I get there, my phone is blaring alerts and notifications, but I resist the urge to check them. I already know they're probably all from Edward, all asking me to come back and talk. A sigh escapes through my lips, and I want to bang my head against the steering wheel for being such an insufferable bitch. One more than one ocassion, Ginger proved himself to me. He's been patient, and kind, and more than willing to switch. Fuck, he even let me top him in public.

And this is how I repay him.

I feel stupid and ungrateful, but I can't help the panic that hit me right in the face when I opened that jewelry box. I already promised him I'd be more flexible and try, and that I would lower my walls. To be honest, he was quite successful in getting me to open up to him, in telling him about my fears and dreams and what I want to get out of our relationship. I agreed to date him, but it seems like my mind still needs to catch up with my feelings.

"Ginger is safe," I tell myself quietly. "He's not like the one before. This is not the past."

Emmett is the one to open the front door, wearing a black T-shirt and some denim with a 'Kiss the Chef' apron over top of it. His feet are bare and his dark curls a messy pile on top of his head.

"Hey," he breathes, seeing the look on my face. "Are you okay, Bella?"

He holds the door for me, and follows me inside where Rose sits on a high stool with one knee up, watching over the kitchen with a glass of white wine. She whips her head in our direction, and a frown appears between her brows.

"What's wrong? I thought you had a scene with Edward?" She was the one to clear my schedule for tonight at the dungeon so I could go have a sleepover at my boyfriend's house.

"I—," I sigh and drop my head. Emmett fetches me a glass of my own and pulls out the bar stool next to Rose's. "He bought me a collar, and I ran." I hear Emmett gasp as he lowers the heat on the stove and sets the bottle of wine in between Rose and me. He knows I'm not here as a Domme tonight, but I'm here as a friend. I appreciate him not laying it on too thick, because I'm not sure I can handle that.

"A collar?" Rose asks. Her voice is soft, as is her expression. Her face is free from her usual makeup, hair slightly damp. Even though her armor isn't in place, she still looks regal and powerful. "Did you guys talk about that?"

I shake my head.

"I'm guessing you didn't stay for what he had to say to you?" She arches a brow my way, fills up her glass. The glass bottle clanks loudly when she sets it back down on the marble countertop.

"No," I reply meekly.

"Bella, come on… why do you keep doing this?" She pinches the bridge of her nose before looking at Emmett.

"Tell her, babe," he says.

"I overheard him and Jasper talk when I was at the club on Monday night. This collar you're so fucking afraid of, Havoc, is a token of his appreciation and his fucking love for you. The dude adores you, and you keep shooting him down. He told Jasper the two of you had agreed to a switch dynamic, and he wanted to thank you for that, honor that agreement with a collar you could wear when you felt like subbing for the night. That's it, dude. He's not chackling you and being your owner," Rose says. It's clear that she's upset with me.

I don't blame her.

"Rose is right, you know… Mr. Masen had it handmade by someone, he was very picky about choosing the right type of jewelry for you." Mr. Masen… Emmett only calls him that because they haven't really interacted and he's a Dom, and he hasn't told Emmett it was okay to call him by his first name.

"I'm sick and tired of all the petty rules and what they used to mean to me," I blurt out.

"Fucking call him, Bella," Rose says.

I drink my wine and ponder her words.

"Why didn't you tell me about this on Monday? Or on any day after that?" I ask her .

"Because it was a surprise, and he asked me not to. I even told him it would be a good idea, because you used to fucking love wearing your Master's collars in the past."

"In the past," I bite bitterly.

"Bella, Edward knows what happened to you. Do you honestly think he'll just swing a collar around your neck and demand you serve him now?"

"No, but—"

"No, stop it. I've been here for you through the years, and you have never been this happy since it all fell apart. Edward makes you happy, I can tell, Emmett can tell, Jasper can tell… it's just you who seems to want to be difficult all the time. It just proves how much of a brat you really are, Swan."

No Bella, no Havoc. Swan.

"Emmett, tell her." Rose looks at Emmett who wipes his hands on a kitchen towel, drapes it over his shoulder. His size is almost comical, with huge biceps and a gymbod most body builders might be jealous of. Emmett McCarty is the epitome of a strong, virile man. The fact that he's a submissive—Rose's submissive only shows how strong he is. Never ashamed, always proud of his role and their dynamic.

"You really should give into it, Bella. You'll feel so much better. Don't you miss it? The aftercare when you're done with a scene, the praise you get when you've been good, when you've pleased your Master?" he asks. Only Emmett can talk about being a submissive with this gleam in his eyes. It's different from Jasper, because Emmett is a sub through and through, and he'll walk through fire for his Lady. "I know you're scared, but don't you trust Mr. Masen?"

"I do trust him. It's why I let him top me," I explain.

Emmett smirks.

"You don't let him do anything, Bella. You need him to," he says, seeing right through my facade. "I know how people used to talk about you in the community. You were the first sub I ever saw on stage, and I was in pure and utter awe of the way you carried yourself. You know you miss it, I can tell."

"How can you tell?"

"Because you have this look on your face whenever Mr. Masen is in the room. You cling to his lips when he talks, you follow when he walks out first and stay back until he beckons you closer. That's nothing to be ashamed of, but it's hella submissive, like your body knows what you won't let yourself admit."

"I do that?" I frown.

"Baby, when you were on stage at the dungeon? That was hella hot, but as soon as the scene was done, Edward was back on top and you know it. He might not own you the way that collar suggests, but you're well on your way to that."

"I'm not, I'm a Domme."

"You, my sweetheart, are a switch. It's as clear as day. Stop being such a little bitch and jump into it again. Head first, no script or expectations. Let the man blow your mind. You might like what you find."

I think about my friend's words. About what they mean, and about what it'll mean if I finally stop fighting. I love holding the reins, and it's glorious to see Edward on his knees before me. I love seeing him submit, but I also know that when I'm the one to bow down, the liberating feeling overcomes me and I want to relive it again and again.

"I only want to do this with him," I state.

"And I understand," Rose says. "But you got to give it your all, Bella. You owe the man that much. I mean… he's so dominant, and yet, he crawls for you. That man is over his head in fucking love with you, sweetheart."

Edward Masen is in love with me?