“Lydia,” James’ voice was serious, “This is exciting, yes, but we’re not much closer. We still might have to search for weeks for the rest of it.”
His statement hung in the air between them. He saw Lydia’s excitement vanish. There would be no “next week” for them, together. In three days, she’d be back with her Master, pretending she hadn’t seen the way that life could be if she lived somewhere else. Pretending she hadn’t met someone who knew her to be much more than a fuck toy who also cleaned.
He saw her pull into herself as clearly as if she’d drawn a cloak around herself. “Lydia.” He reached for her hand, but she moved away.
“Don’t, James. Don’t. I don’t think I could stand it if you touched me right now. I need to keep myself together, because I have no intention of losing a single moment of this week to crying or self-pity.”
It was a brave statement made by someone trained never to resist a man, and his heart almost broke that he’d opened her up and made her this vulnerable.
“Sir, may I go back to the other room for a while?”
This room would be a soulless place if she wasn’t here with him, but he nodded.