Chapter 10: Tuesday Mid-afternoon

Traffic inched along the Don Valley Parkway, all three lanes choked. The southbound lanes were almost empty. Sun made autumn leaves radiant, a breathtaking display of yellows, deep reds, and shades of orange. I saw none of it.

My daily trades had been at margin, no profit, no loss. The usual enjoyment I had for trading was pushed aside by thoughts of Cassie. I hadn't seen her since Sunday morning, her day busy with her mother. Monday I'd had an engagement with old friends. Sitting in traffic I was feeling a bit morose; Tuesdays was Cassie's gymnastics practice. I wouldn't see her.

Cars moved in a sudden spurt, advancing twenty-odd meters before stopping. Frustrations made me boil inside when I saw our traffic jam was the result of an accident on the south-bound side of the Parkway, north-bound drivers slowing to gawp at the three cars caught in a fender-bender.

"Assholes!" I yelled at the other drivers. It didn't help.

I was officially in a foul mood when I parked my Acura Vigor in the drive. Opening the front door I saw Cassie's backpack on the hall floor. My heart skipped. What was she doing here on a Tuesday?

"Cassie?" I called out, looking in the living room, dining room and kitchen. Climbing the stairs I paused at my bedroom door. My breath caught. An erection began to form.

Cassie seemed to be asleep on top of the bed, wearing one of my dress shirts and nothing else, long bare legs exposed, laying on her front. I studied how sensually the shirt-tail barely covered her small ass. Bending, I couldn't tell if she had panties on. Tossed into the corner was a pile of sweatpants, T-shirt, and blue sneakers. Ah, so blue panties. Hmm.

Moving to the side of the bed I studied her gorgeous face partially obscured by honey-blonde hair. Then I saw the slight smile; she was awake! What a minx! I grinned ... and paused. She was supposed to be at gymnastics practice. What was she doing here?

Bending, inhaling her sensual scent, I drew her hair back off her face and kissed her cheek gently. "What are you doing here?" I asked softly. "Aren't you supposed to be at gymnastics?"

Her smile broadened, eyes opening to look at me, such beautiful pale blue eyes.

It may have been the residual frustration still residing in me from two unsuccessful days of trading. It may have been the frustration of the drive home. It even may have been frustration at not having her with me every minute of every day. I didn't know, but when Cassie told me she was skipping practice I lost my temper. It infuriated me that she'd sacrifice something important to her just to be with me. I should have been happy, elated. I wasn't.

"Get dressed," I said with a light slap of her rear. "I'll see you downstairs."

"What..."

Sitting on the couch I tried to understand my feelings. This was new territory for me. I don't think I'd ever been angry at Cassie. But I was. Perhaps it had something to do with her talking about being submissive, or how she seemed willing to give up on gymnastics so easily. Would ballet be next? Would I be the reason a remarkably talented dancer quit? How would that make her feel two years down the line? How would it make me feel? She'd blame me eventually.

Sounds of her footsteps drew me back. She looked hesitant and worried as she approached. I patted the couch next to me and drew her down.

It was a hard chat. She could be obstinate. She was obstinate. She threw "independent" and "I make my own decisions" at me, and "I'm my own person, Finn." Pale blue eyes became flinty. I saw her at seven years old stamping her feet and refusing to clean up her toys.

I saw anger when I told her, perhaps too forcefully, not to behave like a child and if she skipped any activity, any school, we would not be seeing each other during the week or on the weekend. And my chest hurt at the disappointment in her eyes. She stood and stormed out yelling, "FINE!"

It was a long, lonely week. I had a driving desire to go and apologise, acquiesce to her, do anything to make her smile at me. But I was resolute, too. I couldn't let her sacrifice anything, anything at all, just for our relationship. I was right, but God it hurt.