Shades Of Submission: Fifty By Fifty Part 120

"I already did," I replied.

"That doesn't sound like the answer that's coming from someone who's going to get to come."

"Please Sir, please let me come!"

"That's better," he replied, and he picked up the pace, pistoning in and out of me faster and faster now. This was what I'd wanted, what I needed.

Eventually the crest of the wave came over me once more and I knew I was past the point of no return. I knew I was doing it, I was going to come.

"Oh G.o.d!" I cried, and as Mark picked up the pace once more before stopping inside of me, I knew he was coming too.

He grabbed my shoulders and pressed deep inside of me as we came together, our cries intermingling as pleasure overtook us both. I closed my eyes, my body sucking out every single ounce of pleasure I was getting from this. I stopped breathing, I stopped thinking, everything in my body stopped as pleasure unlike anything I'd ever felt before rushed through me. It was like two o.r.g.a.s.ms at once, like the o.r.g.a.s.m I'd been denied earlier had come back with a vengeance, and as the waves of pleasure pa.s.sed and I collapsed, exhausted, onto the bed, every single part of my body already felt sore.

Mark untied my hands and we lay in bed together, the sound of our breathing the only thing combining with the light noise of the city below. I closed my eyes, and as I curled up in Mark's arms, I realized that I had never been this happy before in my life.

The next week or so absolutely flew by, like a complete blur. Mark and I officially announced our engagement as soon as we got back to San Diego, his father did as he promised and sent over the paperwork, which Mark got a lawyer that he specifically hired to look over and give the all clear about.

Most surprising to me was how much the paparazzi cared about our engagement. Mark and I were leaving a restaurant one evening when flashes began to go off immediately. I covered my face with my hands, blinded by the flashes as people began to yell things at me, and Mark grabbed me by the hand and pulled me with him into the car we had waiting.

"What the h.e.l.l? What was all that about? Did they mix us up with someone else?"

"No. I didn't think there would be that many of them around, though. I guess it's a slow news week in Hollywood, if me being engaged is big news."

"That's right, I always forget that you actually are a quasi-celebrity."

"I'm sorry, Caroline. I didn't actually think the paparazzi would come out after me after announcing the engagement. I'm sure if we give them a few days they'll move on."

"Don't worry, if this is the cost of being engaged to the best man in the world, I'll take it."

What I didn't realize at the time was just how much those tabloid photos were going to have an impact on my life.

My life quickly turned into a muddle of wedding planning, working and being with Mark, who worked part time at his charity, but had also started his own business in the information technology sector, and was busier than ever.

I was sitting at our dining room table one night, which had now become our de-facto wedding planning table, every inch of the s.p.a.ce covered with samples, pictures, magazines, travel brochures, and more.

"We should probably figure out when we want to have the wedding," I told Mark. "And also probably where. If we decide to do it in the Bahamas or something that'll probably get rid of a good chunk of the color schemes."

"Why don't we get married in Hawaii?"

"You know, I can't believe I hadn't already thought of that. That's absolutely perfect!"

"We'll go in the dry season sometime, so we don't have to narrow down the exact month yet, but I wouldn't mind doing it in the next year, I want to be married to you as quickly as I can."

"But aren't you too busy with the new company to get away for a while?"

"I'm never too busy for you, sweetheart."

Just then, the phone in the other room rang. I got up to get it and picked up.

"h.e.l.lo?"

When I heard the voice on the other line, I froze.

"Caroline? Oh, I knew it was you, as soon as I saw your photo in the paper."

I didn't know what to do. In a panic, I hung up the phone, and threw it across the room onto the couch. I went back out into the living room, and Mark immediately noticed something was wrong.

"What is it, Caroline? Who was on the phone?"

"It was... my mom..." I replied in a voice barely louder than a whisper. Suddenly, the phone rang again. Mark immediately got up, went to the wall and unplugged the cord. Silence filled the room until he came over to me and took me carefully into his arms. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to say anything. I began to cry and he stroked my hair.

I had worked so hard to get away from my mother, I had worked so hard to start a new life for myself. The last thing I needed was for her to come back into my life unannounced, unwanted. She had done and said things that were going to stay with me for the rest of my life. For years, I hadn't been in contact with her, and now she had found me.

How had she figured out where I was? How had she figured out who I lived with? Then, it came to me.

"Oh G.o.d, it was the magazines, wasn't it? That was how she found me."

"It may be."

"I spent so long, so much of my life trying to get away, I was starting to feel safe, starting to feel like she was never going to find me again, never going to be able to try and ruin my life anymore."

"She won't, Caroline. I promise you that. I'll change the phone number tomorrow, she won't be able to call this number again."

"Will that be enough though?"

"I don't know, but I promise you this, Caroline: whatever needs to be done, we will do. If it means packing up our bags and moving somewhere else, we will do it. I promise you I won't let your mother get near you again. I know what she's done to you, I know the impact it's had on your life. The least I can do as your fiance and future husband is to protect you from that."

I couldn't help but smile up at Mark. His muscular, hard arms wrapped around me, I knew I was safe. I knew he would protect me from anything.

Over the next week and a half I heard nothing from my mother. I guessed she must have gotten the message when I hung up on her and we disconnected the phone line. Still, I was uneasy. It was unlike my mother to give up on finding me so easily. I knew she had worked incredibly hard to try and find out where I'd gone when I had first left her, and I thought it was strange that she would let up so easily after finally finding me after all these years.

I was always on my guard, and yet nothing ever happened. Mark had told security at his building to watch out for a woman matching my mother's description (I found a semi recent photo of her thanks to the internet) and I always had a good look around the work building before I left for the night, changing my schedule so I never left at the same time twice in a row.

I had organized a meeting with the florist I was looking to hire for the wedding at a coffee shop near where I worked over my lunch break one day. She was going to bring over photos of sample arrangements for me to look at so I could get an idea of what I wanted, and customize the flowers to my taste. Our wedding being in Hawaii, I wanted something tropical, maybe with Orchids as the centrepiece, but I wasn't completely sure.

Honestly, I had never really pictured myself getting married. I had spent so much time trying to run away from my past, I had never really had a chance to look towards my future. I had never really dreamed about things like what my wedding would be like, what flowers I was going to pick out, that sort of thing.

Of course, I also had never expected that my wedding would have a practically unlimited budget. I kept having to get used to spending money on things: often I'd try and choose the cheaper option for things, and Mark would ask me whether that was the one I really wanted, or if I just wanted to save money, and I would realize that I was subconsciously trying to spend as little money as possible.

After all, it all seemed so extravagant! We weren't going to have 300 guests or anything, but even so, everything added up so quickly! Between the hotel, the reception, having the ceremony on the beach and catering, we were already spending over fifteen thousand dollars, and I hadn't even so much as looked at wedding dresses yet. I was pretty sure when this was all over we were going to have spent more money than I used to make in a year.

These thoughts and more ran through my head as I sipped a caramel latte and waited for the florist to arrive. We were actually quite lucky, she was going to deal with me over here in San Diego and figure out what I wanted, then a co-worker of hers who owned a florist in Honolulu would take care of the details; that way I could meet face to face with her to make decisions rather than having to deal with a Hawaiian florist over the internet.

I was staring at the table in front of my, not really focusing on anything, when I felt a shadow and movement in front of me. I looked up, a smile on my face, expecting to see Sandra. When I saw who was sitting in the chair across from me, the smile fell from my face.

It was my mother. She still looked the same, really, only older. She still vainly dyed her hair blonde in a desperate attempt to look like the girl next door, which didn't suit her Italian coloring at all. Her eyes were still dark and almond shaped, her nose still just a touch too big for her face, her thin lips stretched in a huge smile as she sat in front of me, almost acting as though we had never spent any time apart.

"How the h.e.l.l did you find me?" I hissed at her, not wanting to cause a scene in the coffee shop, but certainly not wanting to pretend this was acceptable behaviour. Still, her smile stayed on her face, didn't move an inch. Over the years my mother had become a practiced actress, as she sucked up to people in the figure skating industry, willing to attach herself to anyone who might have anything to do with my future success.

"Really, Caroline? Is that all you have to say? After all the effort I went through to find you?"

"Maybe you should have taken the hint and realized I didn't want you to be in my life."

"Look, Caro, whatever you think I've done..." she started, but I cut her off.

"Whatever you think I've done, mom? Really? You actually think you're still completely blameless in all of this, don't you?"

"Of course not. No, I know I've made mistakes. I wasn't the perfect mother, and I'm sorry. I'm not asking you to forgive me. All I'm asking is that you maybe give me the chance to see the kind of mother I can be."

For a couple of seconds, I was tempted. I had to admit, a part of me wanted a loving mother. I was jealous of everyone that I knew, deep down, who had loving relationships with their mothers, who called them every weekend, who went over to their place at Christmas and always knew they had their mother's arms to fall into when no one else was around.

Unfortunately, I also knew my mother wasn't capable of that.

"If you wanted to be a good mother, mom, you might have tried during my childhood. Get out of this chair, I'm waiting for someone."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I'll prove it to you, Caroline. I'll show you just how good a mother I can be."

"Please mom, please don't. Please, just go, and live your life. I don't care what you do, I just don't want you in my life."

When I said those words, for the first time since this conversation started, my mother actually looked hurt. I wondered if I wasn't being too harsh. No, you're not. Think of everything you went through, all the pain she caused you. You're not being too harsh, you don't want her in your life.

This time, my mother finally got up.

"Alright, Caro. You've made it obvious you don't want me around. I will prove to you though, that I can be a good mother. I promise you."

"Please, mom. Please don't."

"You'll see, Caro. You'll see that I can do it, I can be a mother to you."

The promise of something I knew she could never give was almost worse than anything else. As she left the coffee shop, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I knew my mother. I knew she was incapable of caring for anyone except herself.

I had spent my entire childhood facing her abuse. She constantly told me I wasn't good enough, that I would never amount to anything, that I wasn't trying hard enough. If I did badly at a tournament my mother would ask me why she drove me all this way, just for me to fail, and I would cry into my pillow as I slept in a sleeping bag in the back of the van that night.

No, I knew deep down that motherhood wasn't something my mom was ever going to get right, no matter how hard she tried. She just didn't have it in her, and it broke my heart.

Sandra showed up about five minutes later, in a flurry with a million apologies about being late. I told her not to worry about it. We went through all the flowers, but my mind wasn't in it at all. I ended up picking some that I liked, but I couldn't concentrate at all. At the end of the meeting, Sandra asked me if everything was all right. I said yes, and apologized for being distant, I'd just gotten some bad news from a relative.

When I saw Mark a couple hours later, I told him all about the meeting with my mother.

"s.h.i.t, I'm sorry, Caroline. I know you didn't want to see her."

"You know, it's funny. I didn't want to, but now that I have I wonder if it isn't for the best. I've told her in no uncertain terms that I don't want her in my life. I've told her that face to face, and it does feel good to do so."

Mark allowed himself a small smile. "You're right, it does, doesn't it?"

"The problem is, I don't think she's going to have gotten the message."

All of a sudden, it was like the world weighed down on me.

"I'm so tired of running. I spent so long trying to make sure she would never find me, I don't think I have the energy to do it again, Sir."

"You're not going to do it again Caroline. You don't have to do it again. Besides, if you ran off, what would happen to us? I can't let that happen."

I smiled up at him. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm just panicking, since it's been so long."

"I understand where you're coming from, completely. I really do, Caroline. Don't worry, if you need to talk about it, I'm here for you."

"I do, actually. Can we do dinner tonight?"

We went somewhere casual, a pizza place we both liked where we knew the booths were high, the tables were rarely filled, and we'd have a bit of privacy. As we ate, I told Mark everything. I told him all about my childhood, every little thing my mother said or did to make me feel like complete c.r.a.p. I told him about the figure skating, the pushing, the threats, the making me feel like I was the one who had to succeed to put food on the table when I was only eight years old.

As I spilled out my heart, I realized this was the first time that I had told every single thing that I kept repressed to anybody. I had told Mark bits and pieces of it of course, especially as he dealt with the problems that came with his own family, but that was it. No one had ever heard the full story, the full extent of what I had gone through as a kid.

"You're amazing, Caroline, to have toughed that out."

"Well, you know what it's like, to have to go through that sort of thing."

"I do. And you know what? I'm going to do everything I possibly can to make sure your mother stays away from you. I don't want that toxicity near my future wife. I'm going to give you the world, and the first part of that is getting you away from the person that ruins your world."

"Thanks, Sir. I appreciate it."

"Not a problem. I love you, Caroline. I'm going to marry you. I want you to be happy."

As we left the pizza place, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I had finally told my story, told somebody everything, and it felt good.

The problem was, my initial instinct had been correct. My mother never did leave well enough alone, and over the next couple of weeks she would find me, constantly. Any time I was by myself in public, my mother was there. I have no idea how she always managed to find me, whether she was following me or what.

I ended up filing a police report after the first four days, accusing her of stalking me, but the police officers said that unless she actually did something there wasn't too much they could do, especially since I had no idea where she was staying or even if she was even living in the city.

The whole situation began to wreak havoc on my life. I didn't want to be going through this anymore. I'd spent years of my life trying to get away from this, trying to get away from my mother, and now she was back in my life, unwanted, and it seemed like there was no way to get away from her.

Mark found me crying in the living room one night, tears streaming down my face, as I felt sorry for myself, not knowing what to do.

"Oh, G.o.d, Caroline, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting next to me and taking me in his arms.

"I just can't get away from her. I just... can't. I want this to be over. I want her out of my life."

Mark didn't reply for a couple of minutes.

"You know what? We're going to get her out of your life. Obviously nothing you say is doing it, and you say she's not going to get tired of this, so we're going to deal with this another way.

"How's that?" I asked.

"I've been thinking about this since your mother first came back, and I think I have the solution. We're going to get married next month. I'll call everyone, move the dates forward. We'll keep it quiet. Besides, we're going to be in Hawaii, we're staying at an exclusive resort, there's no way your mother's going to hear about it. Afterwards, we're not going to come back here. I'm going to sell this place, and buy a new one, under a company name so that she can't track the sale. But we're not going to come back here right away. Instead, right after we get married we're going to fly to j.a.pan from Hawaii, and from there we're going to spend at least six months going wherever we want to, anywhere in the world except the United States. I'll have some of my media contacts write that I've moved to New York, a much larger city than San Diego, and we'll come back here, living elsewhere. I'll open an office in New York, it'll seem as though we're living there permanently, even though we'll still be here."