She felt a wave of anger and grief try to overtop her mental walls. She fought it back. "I wore Ross' collar for six months. The only thing he required me to do was live, to lean on them. I was allowed to remove the collar for good once I could promise him and Loren that I wouldn't hurt myself and that I could make it on my own. He never topped me. No one else has ever topped me."

He didn't respond.

"Would you have left me if we were married?" She didn't want to know, and yet she felt she had to have the question answered once and for all so she could quit worrying at it like a dog with a bone.

He took a long time to answer. "I don't know. I would like to be able to say no, I wouldn't have left, but that would be a lie because I honestly don't know what I would have done." He sighed. "So the only reason you're with him is because he forced you? Because of me?"

"No. I made the decision based on what's right. He's a nice guy. I do think the two of you need some serious work on your communication skills."

His smile looked sad. "Maybe you can help us with that. Keep us in line."

"Fuckin' A."

He turned back to the counter to prepare dinner. From the ingredients he'd assembled, she assumed some sort of soup.

"Where do we go from here?" she asked. "You and me. I don't know how to deal with you. Part of me wants to beat your fucking brains out and part of me..." She couldn't continue as guilt swept through her again.

"I've already got more than I dreamed I could have." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "I never thought I would ever have your forgiveness. Anything else I consider a bonus."

She watched him for a few minutes. "What are you making?" That should be a safe topic.

"Chicken soup. It's one of his favorites. He won't want anything heavy to eat, not feeling the way he does. It'll keep his stomach settled and be easy for him to digest. He'll sleep for several hours and it'll be ready when he wakes up. I use fresh ginger in it to help soothe his tummy."

The giggles rippled through her, unexpected, taking her by surprise until the laughter rolled out of her. He stood there patiently waiting her out. "What's so funny?"

She snorted. "'Soothe his tummy?' Wuddums want his bwankie and baba, too?"

Cris smiled. "Hey, just because he's a sadist doesn't mean he doesn't like to be babied once in a while. He hates feeling crappy. Did he warn you he's a horrible patient?"

"Yeah, I think he did mention that."

"He meant it. He's a really cranky asshole when he's sick. I guarantee you, at his worst, you'll earn every cent of whatever he's paying you."

She sat in bed with Landry, reading while he slept. After a while, Cris quietly walked in and sat on the floor on the other side of the bed, his chin resting on his arms on the matress. She'd left the door open in case he wanted to come in, so he wouldn't have to knock and disturb Landry.

Tilly tried not to notice him, but she couldn't help sneaking glances out of the corner of her eye.

Cris' gaze never wavered from Landry's face, focused totally on him.

Had she ever held that level of pure devotion for Cris as her Master? She'd once thought she had. The more she watched how Cris interacted with Landry, it became apparent to her how much deeper a Master and slave relationship the men had than she'd ever had with Cris.

With Cris they'd been lovers, friends, partners, and almost engaged until he disappeared. But while she'd served Cris and thought of him as her Master, he was more her protector, her lifeline.

Her anchor to sanity.

Fuck.

He was her service Top more than anything, truth be told.

When she felt her hands shake she realized she needed to get out of there and be alone. With her book in hand, she carefully stood without disturbing Landry and went to her office where she closed the door behind her. The book fell from her trembling fingers as she hugged herself. She walked over to the window to look out at the garden and that's when her tears flowed.

No matter what she thought of herself in the past, what she'd had with Cris paled in comparison to what he had with Landry.

Cris held Landry together. Cris had held her together when they first met, seeing her through hell to the other side.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, Cris had been right about her surviving losing him. He knew she would probably be okay, whereas Landry would not. Cris was their glue. And before she ever embarked on this crazy venture with Landry, they had that in common whether they'd realized it or not.

She closed her eyes and sobbed, and at first she didn't hear the soft knock. By the time she turned Cris had already opened the door.

Hating herself even more, when he walked over, arms opened, she fell into them and let him guide her to the floor where he held her while she cried.

He didn't speak, didn't try to soothe her, he simply held her until she finally sat up and turned away from him to wipe her eyes and sniffle.

Her laugh sounded harsh even to her. "You're a better slave than I ever was," she said.

"That's not true," he firmly countered. "You were wonderful. I was so proud of you."

"Past tense." She turned to look at him. "Let's face it, you are a thousand times more devoted to him than I ever was to you. I thought I knew what it meant. Then I see you with him and... Fuck, Cris, if you'd done a fraction to me of what we did to you, I'd have killed you."

He sadly smiled. "He needed his pound of flesh and so did you. It's okay. I deserved it."

"No, you didn't deserve what we did." She stood and backed away from him while he remained seated. "You didn't deserve that."

"I'm sure once he's feeling better there will be more. Just not so intense."

"How can you be okay with that?"

He shrugged. "What choice do I have?"

"You could leave him."

"Is that what you want me to do?"

She studied him long and hard. "No," she quietly admitted. "I don't."

He climbed to his feet, moving as smoothly as ever. She felt her heart flutter in response as her mind flashed back to hours spent watching him do tai chi or work through a fighting form, fascinated as his muscles rippled under tanned skin.

"It's not what I want, either," he said. "I love him, and I still love you." He walked to the door, but he stopped and turned before leaving. "What set you off? If you don't mind me asking. Was it something I did or said?"

"I don't think I ever sat in bed and spent hours staring at you while you slept."

He nodded, a sad smile quirking one corner of his mouth. "That's okay. I spent plenty of hours watching you sleep."

Her breath caught in her throat as he disappeared down the hall. Her knees gave out and she sank to the floor again.

Cris silently padded down the hall to check on him. Landry still slept. The pain meds combined with the residual effects of the anesthesia would keep him down until late that evening. He retook his place on the floor next to the bed and waited.

He would never presume he could sit on her bed, even if she offered, without his Master's permission.

After a while, Tilly finally returned, her eyes red and face splotchy. He felt for her, wished he could give her more comfort than he did.

Wished he could promise to make it all better for her like he used to.

She climbed into bed without disturbing Landry and rolled onto her side so she could watch him. When their eyes met, Cris wanted to hold her, reassure her he was okay with the new status quo, and knew all those words had to remain unspoken.

This was his Master's will. That's all that mattered.

No, he never would have done anything to her remotely like what Landry put him through. He also knew some would think him a weak fucking pussy for tolerating it.

Deserve it? He felt so.

He knew the gig. Absolute. No shades of grey except the ones decided by Landry, although usually he gave Cris a voice and opinion in matters. Still, underlying all those things remained the fact that in Landry's world, there was but one credo: Because I said so.

Which left him with only two options, stay or leave.

Leaving was not an option in his heart or mind.

After another hour, Landry stirred. He first looked to Tilly, who smiled and brushed the hair from his forehead. "Hey, sleepy," she said. "How you feeling?"

"Crappy. Where's Cris?"

His heart leapt as he reached over and touched his shoulder. He'd said his name! "I'm right here, Master."

Landry slowly turned over to face him. "Is that your special soup I smell?"

"Yes, Master. I made it the way you like."

Landry's eyes closed. "That's my good boy. You take good care of me, don't you?" He squeezed Cris' hand. "Why do you put up with me?"

"Because I love you, Master."

"I love you too, Cris."

Tilly watched the exchange as a lump rose in her throat. Landry's demeanor toward Cris couldn't be any less like it had been on their wedding night or in the days leading to it. In her heart, no matter how much seeing them together might hurt in some ways, she would never demand Cris leave.

Landry needed him.

She might be able to help heal his body, get him to doctor appointments and force pills down his throat as prescribed, even warm his bed, but he could pay any nurse or prostitute to do that for him.

He didn't need her.

He needed Cris.

Part of her wished he needed her, no matter what he said while they made love.

He reached back and patted her thigh. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure."

"Bring me my computer bag from the office, please?"

She glanced at Cris, who made a beats the hell outta me face at her. "Yeah, sure." She brought it and handed it to him.

With a pained grunt he sat up and opened the front flap, from which he withdrew a black velvet ring box. "I didn't tell you about this," he explained to her, "because I wasn't sure what would happen between Friday and today. I didn't know if Cris would be here, or if you'd be stuck alone with my sorry ass."

She smiled. "Your ass isn't sorry."

"This is me being a good patient. You haven't seen grouchy asshole patient mode yet. I'm sure he'll vouch for that." Cris smiled but said nothing while Landry opened the box and withdrew a ring identical to his wedding band. "Remember the other day at the mall, at the jewelry store, when I asked you to run over to Starbucks?" he asked her.

"Yeah?"

He held up the ring. He reached for Cris' right hand and slid it onto his ring finger. "I wanted to give you a little reward for making it this far. Seriously. I know you're here for the long haul. There's a reason I want it on your right hand instead of your left."

Landry glanced at Tilly. "She is my wife. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't falling in love with her.

She has a right to not share me if she decides. I'll only wear her ring on my left hand. This is my pledge to you as your Master, and a tangible reminder, that I'll always take care of you no matter what. But as my slave, you belong to her, too. You obey her, whether she tells you to kiss her ass or wash her dishes or whatever. Understand?"

He nodded, staring at the ring on his hand with wide eyes. "Yes, Master."