The tantrum brewing in silence came as a surprise.
She sat silent. Staring at the phone. His texts. His words, his thoughts, his decision. She sat on her couch, legs tucked under her, coffee on the end table going cold, television in the distance with another rerun of Law and Order SVU. It was warm outside, but she felt nothing.
Having arrived home from work, she changed her clothes to get comfortable and texted him to let him know his secondary had contacted her to ask if he was cheating on her with his primary. She was neither his primary or secondary, she was just Toy. Believing she was doing him a favor by giving him a heads up so he could prepare, she sat down to text him. That is what she always did. She protected him, gave him intel. It was always odd that all his girlfriends and subs trusted her and went to her with their fears. Some knew she had a history with him. Some did not. It never mattered they knew she knew him better than most.
He had been quiet lately but he did that sometimes. He ebbed and flowed like the tide frequently. It took a lot to keep up with his movements of moods. He always came back to find his quiet peaceful place with her. Today her text was met with venom. He responded with anger and a blunt text, “You have been so frustrating to me lately”. She read the words and knew she had been too needy, too persistent. Rolling through her request and how she had handled things in her head she felt the heat rise in her.
His text messages kept coming, fast and furious. Unloaded what he had apparently been keeping in for quite a while. His tantrum was fast and furious. She had seen it before. It was always directed at someone else and even then she felt the heat from them. She had seen him angry and knew she never wanted to be the source of that anger. Now she was.
“I’m done with you. Move on.”
And that was it. She watched the stream of text messages come in until the bitter end. They were done. She knew not to beg. There would be no point. She had seen that before and knew he only grew more angry with begging and pleading. She also knew it gave him the pleasure to know that he was still wanted even after dismissing someone. His tantrum was done. And so were they.
Staring at the silent phone, his ring tone stopped, the rapid vibration stopped. That tone and vibration that brought a smile to her every time it rang and moved were now silent. She felt the heat continuing to rise. However, she knew nothing she could do would change how this went or how she felt. More importantly, nothing she could do would change how he felt.
She rolled through her experiences with him, good and bad. It was the movie of their relationship. Her eyes were dry, still holding the silent phone, mind reeling, as the memories flooded her brain, heart beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. It wasn’t the beating of her heart she felt, but the pieces shattering and falling inside her with every memory that flashed through her mind. She knew it was over.
She wanted to be angry, and to some extent she was.
Why wasn’t she crying, sobbing, screaming, reacting as she had in the past when she thought he was angry with her. Her eyes still dry, her breathing was calm, she was silent. She didn’t understand this reaction. Perhaps she wasn’t supposed to understand it. Not yet, maybe never.
The first feeling she was aware of aside from the pieces of her heart splitting apart inside of her, was that her legs were aching from being coiled under her for the past half hour. Uncoiling her legs, she placed the phone on the end table and took a drink of the ice cold coffee that still sat on the end table. She laid on the couch now, stretching her legs out and feeling the tingling pins and needles as the blood flow increased back into her legs.
Her emotions were slowing coming to the surface and surprisingly anger was the first to bubble up. Her silent tantrum was all inside of her. Nothing on the outside to show her world had just changed forever. While he threw angry words and her and ended their friendship, their lover and their D/s relationship forever, she laid quiet and still, mindlessly watching a rerun of the show she had seen a thousand times. Reaching for her coffer again, she closed her eyes, repeating to herself, “It is over. It is over. It is over.” Maybe saying it repeatedly would help her believe it and eventually help her handle this silent turmoil brewing inside her. Or maybe it wouldn’t.
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