‘You weren’t serious, Jeremy? You can’t have been. I thought you were just teasing, you know, just wanting to heighten the experience …’ He interrupts me.
‘I asked you to promise me two things. No vision and no questions.’ He pauses for effect. ‘For forty-eight hours. Simple really. Nothing a smart, intelligent, woman such as yourself can’t understand I’m sure.’ My palms moisten at his words. He continues, in a serious, no-nonsense manner.
‘Alexandra, you know better than anyone that I don’t ever, ever joke or tease about promises.’ He looks at me intently but allows me to keep my distance. Oh god, he was serious, he honestly wants to follow through with this. Typical, just when I’m starting to relax and have some fun. Such a Jeremy thing to do, to take the situation to a whole other level that puts me on edge all over again. I know full well that he is right. He takes promises more seriously than anyone else I know. What was I thinking? Making stupid mindless promises, all for the short-term satisfaction of a mind-blowing orgasm. Ah, but what an orgasm … and I haven’t had one for soooo long … And the promise of more is almost too much to bear. Focus! I castigate myself.
‘Well, Jeremy,’ I say in a serious voice, attempting to harden my resolve and stand my ground. ‘You did make me promise under duress and you know as well as I do, that it doesn’t count.’ I can only hope I am matching his language and energy as a last resort at getting out of this.
‘Ah. So you do remember. We have progress. Would you really call that duress, sweetheart? It certainly seemed to me like you were more than enjoying yourself.’ His words are as wry as his smile.
‘Even so, it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t duress. You knew I was in a situation of weakness and just played on it.’ I’m trying to sound convincing.
‘Are you ready?’ he says firmly. Obviously the time for discussion is over.
‘Really? You want to go through with this stupid promise thing? It’s so silly, nonsense really. We don’t need our time together to be like this, Jeremy. It would be so much nicer to spend time together without … well, without … having this tension between us, without playing games. We’ve grown up, there is no need for this. It is just childish,’ I say, my rising alarm giving way to a little exasperation.
His eyes narrow and zero in on mine as he steps toward me. I automatically take a step back; I can’t help myself, as if erring on the side of caution, attempting to avoid the enveloping sense of danger, as enticing as it may be. He continues to close in on me. As I step back again I realise I have reached the edge of the table. What was I meant to do now, run? It seems ridiculous, running away from my best friend, my ex-lover. I don’t want to run and therein lies the problem. I have to reason with him.
‘Please, Jeremy, please, must you do this?’ I say urgently, almost begging for both time and space. He places his arms on either side of my body, wedging me firmly against the table. His body presses against mine, my personal space vanishes and I have nowhere to go other than hold firm or lie backwards on to the table. I feel his eyes penetrate me, seeking my soul with their glare and know I must avoid looking at him at all costs, knowing that if I do, they will bore straight through me and penetrate my inner sanctum. There is no need for him to feel my pulse now; he can sense it all over my body. Like a Formula One racing car driver, my pulse only has one pace — fast.
‘Alex.’ He is close, firm, dominating. I sense his patience is diminishing rapidly. ‘You promised; you know what that means between us. You know we never promise something we can’t commit to, to ourselves or to each other. It has been that way since we met. Our word is our bond.’
The intensity of his words and the force of his response momentarily stun me. I hadn’t anticipated the heated emotion trapped within them. A deep shiver runs down my spine. Once again my mind replays the promise memory again as if on cue, conjuring up the same images as before. I remember his words had a similar tone and finality.
‘You know I am serious, Alexandra, I won’t let this go.’
But will you let me go? Do I want to go? These silent questions float through my head.
I know he is not to be messed with whenever he uses my full first name.
The air between us is thick with pent-up energy, emotion, and anticipation. There is so much I want to say, so much that isn’t coming out of my mouth. Where are my words? Where is my protest? Where is my escape? Why am I still here, accepting this? There must be something I can do. My mind is blank. Could I want this reality? Do I desire it? Is he tapping into something I’ve been denying in myself for years?… Oh no, my own mind has just given him the opening he is looking for.
I continue to search his eyes in an attempt to find further explanation as to why this is so important to him? Why so persistent? I know it is in his character; he has always been determined, always the winner, but why now, what is he winning? What could I be losing? I just don’t understand. He must have sensed my analytical mind switching into gear because his voice interrupts my thoughts in their tracks.
‘Enough! The time is now,’ he proclaims in a booming voice. ‘Make your decision.’
‘Is it really my choice, Jeremy?’ My voice shakes with emotion.
‘It is always your choice, Alex, never forget that. You didn’t have to promise and I am not forcing you to stay. I am simply outlining the conditions if you do.’
Oh, Jeremy, the supreme mastermind.
He takes my hands and gently leads me to the second bedroom suite. I can feel my heartbeating faster by the second. I can’t decipher whether it is due to the absinthe, adrenaline or sheer emotion. I try to twist slightly away from his grip, without success. Oh god, I think, what have I gotten myself into? As my eyes scan the room, I notice an elegant silk blindfold cascading over the edges of a petite, expensive looking box — it is the same colour as my dress and interwoven with delicate black lace. Alongside it is a velvet face cloth, a tiny bottle of ointment and some eye drops laid out on the bedside table. My heart pounds erratically as my feet become firmly planted at the door.
There is a voice in my head screaming Walk away now, right now! Move your feet and run. You are giving him complete control. It is wrong, you don’t want this. You are a mother, a wife. Move, get going. Do not become a part of this.’ Another voice says in three simple words Bring it on! I begin to tremble. Jeremy hugs me possessively. Like a big brown bear paradoxically in love with its prey. My arms fall limp by my side.
‘Why is this so hard for you, Alex? It is meant to be exciting, intoxicating, not make you shake like a leaf on a tree defending against gale force winds.’
His voice is low, caring, caressing. His words sum up my feelings more eloquently than I can describe them myself.
‘Why is it so important that I comply, Jeremy?’
‘You made a promise.’
‘I feel this is about so much more than that, so tell me, please, just tell me what is going on. Why is this so important to you?’
‘Let me have this moment with you, it won’t last forever. I will look after you, I promise you that. When have I not?’
I let out yet another great sigh knowing his last statement is true. We have had some wild times together but he has always looked after me. I feel as confused as any human being on earth. Jeremy is telling me I have a choice, but I don’t feel like I have one — if I want to stay, that is. Is that a true perception or merely my imagination? I honestly don’t know. I am drowning in my thoughts and emotions when I notice a bowl of perfectly formed red apples sitting in the middle of the round table. Strange how I didn’t notice them before, their symbolism being so obvious. For a fleeting moment I reflect how Eve must have felt when being tempted by the snake to eat the apple. Perhaps knowing it was the wrong thing to do, but also knowing intuitively that fate was clearing her path forward regardless of her own actions. Was she destined to play her role in the biblical story because the temptation was predetermined, beyond her control? Or was the choice she made solely of her own accord and
she wanted to eat the apple to see what would happen? This internal debate is not helping my immediate dilemma.
‘I’m not sure what to do, Jeremy, I just don’t know.’
Deep down, I know these words are the wrong ones to say to the man standing before me. Nonetheless, his response catches me completely off-guard.
‘I know I’m asking a lot, but remember; it was inspired by your lecture this afternoon. At the very least it will be a learning experience for you and I know you have never turned your back on continuing your education. I know how important it is to you. Think about what you ask your clients and students to go through to achieve personal growth. Is this so different? Except that I am asking you to go through it, instead of the other way around? I’m giving you the opportunity to understand first-hand the impact of lack of visual stimulation, to explore sensory deprivation for yourself, the very topic of your expertise. It may be the beginning of a whole new thesis for you, important research based around personal experience that you may have otherwise never considered.’ He pauses, assessing my response to his line of argument, which is at least thought-provoking. I reluctantly admit to myself that his proposal intrigues me, though I’m just not sure I’m brave enough or have the strength to explore it on such a personal level.
‘I don’t want you to leave here now. I want to be with you, to touch you, to connect with you. You look divine, and I know you believe it, I see it in your eyes. I want you, Alex, and for the next forty-eight hours I want to send you where you have never let yourself go. I want to remove all your boundaries, I want to tap into the essence of your being, introduce you to yourself again. I know in my heart this is how to achieve it. Please, trust me. Let me take you on this journey of discovery. Give yourself to me.’ Jeremy’s voice is hypnotic, my brain and heart absorbing his words as if liquid to a sponge. His charisma, his presence, is both seductive and intoxicating.
I am lost in his words now, just as I was in his touch when we were in the bath together. He leads me to the edge of the bed, lowering me to a seated position. Everything becomes trance-like, tranquil. I feel energised, yet calm.
‘You know I have always loved you, Alexa, I would never hurt you.’ His voice is smooth, caressing my body to relax, for my mind to give in. I nod slightly, as if to say I know, I understand, but my words remain within, unspoken.
‘You know that from the moment we met, I have never met anyone like you and I know I never will again.’ His fingers caress my forehead, his palms settle on my temples.
‘Lie still, Gorgeous Girl, let me look after you.’ The fear that previously restrained me has mysteriously left my body and has been replaced by a peaceful awareness. My body is in a serene state while my mind is dependent on Jeremy’s every word. I’m not sure I could lift myself from the bed even if I tried at this moment.
‘Will you let me do this now?’
I feel my head nod slightly.
‘You won’t fight against me?’ My head moves from side to side. His hands press firmly but gently on each of my shoulders as he slowly lowers my back on to the bed.
‘Look at me, Alexandra.’ I meet his gaze.
‘Are you ready to say goodbye to your vision for forty-eight hours?’
‘Yes,’ I respond softly. As my response enters the air, a tear rolls slowly from my eye onto the bed, perhaps due to the anticipatory emotion contained within the decision I am making. He meaningfully kisses the trace of the tear on my cheek as if acknowledging the power I am granting him over me. His fingers guide my chin upwards, tilting my head back in to the palm of his hand.
‘Thank you.’ He softly shifts the loose hair that has fallen around my face to the side and masterfully places two drops of the ointment into each of my eyes. As I blink, the room quickly becomes dull and blurry.
‘Close your eyes for me.’ I take a deep breath as I slowly close them. I feel a light brush ever so gently stroke the ointment on to my eyelids and they become profoundly heavy. It only takes a few moments for the world to completely recede from my vision as darkness surrounds me.
What have I done?
Part III
‘Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood.’
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
‘How are you feeling?’
‘A little disoriented.’ I sit up on the bed carefully. It definitely feels weird, like I’m in a black dream. I can’t open my eyelids; they are dead weights on my face. I keep turning my head, searching for light, but of course, there isn’t any.
‘Now, was that really so difficult?’ Jeremy teases.
‘It wasn’t easy, I can assure you. And I can’t recall you volunteering in my place.’
‘This weekend is about you, sweetheart, not me.’ I don’t want to go there again.
‘What was it? That you put on my eyes?’
‘Rest assured, nothing that hasn’t been approved by the strictest pharmaceutical standards. I wouldn’t put you in any danger. I’m a doctor, remember, I take my oath very seriously.’
Great, moral standing and access to any drugs he so desires.
‘That’s very reassuring, Doctor Quinn, given my current situation.’
He laughs. ‘Honestly, are you alright? Can I help you?’
‘I’m sure I’ll need a lot of help with everything now that you have made me one hundred per cent blind! Are you sure this isn’t permanent?’
‘The drops last twenty-four hours give or take. I’ll redo them tomorrow. Let me know when their impact is fading.’
‘No problem. I’ll be sure to let you know the second any light comes in.’ My voice is laced with sarcasm. I raise my hand wanting to feel my eyes first-hand. They feel so heavy, so bizarre.
‘Oh, no you don’t.’ My hand is guided away. ‘No touching whatsoever. That is why you will also be wearing this blindfold, as a reminder to leave your eyes alone.’
‘No way! That won’t be necessary. I can’t see a thing.’
‘It is and you will.’ He places it over my head. It fits snugly against my eyes and feels silky soft.
‘Well, well, another perfect fit. Did you have it made especially?’ I say jokingly.
No answer. ‘Jeremy?’ There is a long pause.
‘Yes Alex, as a matter of fact, I did.’
‘Come with me.’ Jeremy holds both my hands and assists me carefully up from the bed. I forget I have high heels on and stumble a little before I regain my balance.
‘Wow, this is really, really weird.’ He places his arm around my waist and leads me out of the second bedroom rather precariously. I feel like an invalid. I am stunned this has happened, that I am now blind and fully dependent on Jeremy for the weekend. It makes me feel nervous and tense, but also excited somehow, not knowing what to expect. My dreamlike state has evaporated so I can only hope I’m not entering into a dark nightmare.
‘Here, let’s sit on the lounge.’ He guides me down into the soft velvet cushions. I feel either side of me for armrests but there aren’t any. I wonder how blind people do this every day of their lives? Not knowing how or when things are happening. The positive voice inside me is quietly grateful I had spent some time in the hotel suite earlier. At least I have some familiarity with my surroundings.
A knock on the door startles me.
‘Stay here, I’ll be right back.’ His hands leave mine before I can respond. Jeremy briefly greets whoever is at the door as I sit on the lounge silently like a complete idiot with a blindfold on. I am deeply embarrassed.
I hear noises of plates being efficiently set up and arranged and a bottle crushing into ice, perhaps refreshing the champagne? There is a vague aroma of food in the room. There is no discussion between Jeremy and the ‘door people’ as they go about their business and they remove themselves as quickly as they arrive. I hear Jeremy thanking them and securely closing the door behind them.
He sits beside me on the lounge and places a glass of champagne in my hand.
‘Thank you, Alexa, t
his means everything to me.’
It is so strange not being able to see that I find myself utterly lost for words, so I don’t say anything. I hear our glasses clink together and feel a desperate need to gulp the bubbles down fast. I swallow as much champagne as physically possible, so urgent is the need for me to drink it. I suddenly feel completely out of control, reality hitting me like a brick on the head. I find myself wishing for another shot of absinthe to numb me from it all. What have I done? Anything could happen … I have literally handed myself to him on a platter. Oh well, what possible difference could another glass of champagne make? At least if I pass out I won’t be conscious of how freaked out I am. The rational voice in my head quickly questions the sanity of this particular logic. I keep tipping the glass up but it must already be empty given nothing is coming out.
‘Whoa, Alex! You never drink that fast!’
‘No. I don’t, Jeremy.’ I finally find my voice. ‘But extreme situations can result in extreme behaviour.’ I place my glass out into the space in front of me.
‘Would you mind filling up my glass again, please? This champagne is delicious.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asks tentatively.
‘Oh, yes, I am very sure I would love another glass of champagne. I would be very happy to pour it myself if you would be kind enough to direct me to the bottle, although I would hate to spill any on the lush, five-star carpet,’ I say pointedly.
‘You’re mad at me?’
Such an emotional rocket scientist, I think to myself sarcastically; maybe his EQ isn’t quite what I thought it was after all. Or maybe it is? I’m not so much mad at him as angry at myself for allowing this ridiculous situation to occur in the first place. The reality of being blind has caught me completely off-guard. It’s one thing to be enticed by the concept, the sensuality of the idea, quite another to know I’ll be living like this for the next forty-eight hours. My emotions are threatening to overwhelm me as the significance of what I have just done settles in to my bones.