Eleanor stirred, her eyes fluttering open to the familiar sight of Marcus's sleeping face. But something felt different today, a subtle shift in the air that set her nerves on edge. She slipped out of bed, the cool wood floor beneath her feet grounding her as she made her way to the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a comforting scent that usually soothed her, but today it did little to ease the growing unease.
As she poured two cups, adding a splash of milk and honey to hers and just sugar to Marcus's, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The quiet suburban home, usually a sanctuary of domestic bliss, now seemed to hold a hidden tension, as if the very walls were whispering secrets.
In the bedroom, she quietly set the coffees on the table and gently woke Marcus with a soft kiss on his forehead. "Wake up, sleepyhead. We have a house to clean today," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Marcus slowly sat up, taking a drink of his coffee before he was fully awake. His smile, usually warm and inviting, seemed forced, as if he too felt the underlying current of unease.
"I’ll take the attic," Eleanor said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. The memories of the Christmas Tree incident and the scar on her arm were still fresh, a constant reminder of the past she had tried to bury. "I guess that leaves me the garage," Marcus sighed, knowing he had a full day's task ahead of him.
"Don’t get upset, babe. Maybe when I make some room up there, we can chunk some of the junk in the garage up in the attic," Eleanor offered, her voice trailing off as she climbed the stairs to the attic. The creaky steps seemed to echo her growing apprehension, each footfall a countdown to an inevitable discovery.
As she pushed open the heavy door, the dim light from the single bulb cast eerie shadows on the dusty boxes and abandoned relics of their past. The musty smell of old paper and forgotten trinkets filled her nostrils, transporting her back to a time she had tried so hard to forget. Her heart raced as she stepped inside, a sense of foreboding washing over her. What secrets lay hidden in this place she had avoided for so long?
“Alright, Christmas over here, and we’ll figure everything else out as we go.” Eleanor started rearranging boxes in her domain. An hour had passed, but the Christmas was sorted. Meanwhile, Marcus had a good pile of things he’d like moved to the attic. Business ideas, some of his old case files, and her sewing supplies were the first victims.
Going through the old case files, Marcus found a newspaper clipping of his arrest when he was younger, more wild. He was arrested for a DUI, going 110 miles per hour. Marcus chuckled to himself as he remembered getting a blow job while driving and how fast she had to come up once he saw the blue lights. Something in him made him miss those wild days. That’s not who I am anymore, he kept trying to remind himself, but the memory lingered, a tantalizing whisper of a life he had left behind.
Both locations were coming together, as they took a break for lunch. Marcus wiped the sweat from his brow and filled a Mason jar full of water, his mind drifting to the past. The memories of his wild days were a bittersweet reminder of a time when he felt alive, uninhibited. But now, as he looked at Eleanor, he realized that the life he had built with her was something he couldn't afford to lose. The thought of her discovering her past and the potential consequences sent a shiver down his spine. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever was to come.
"Before you go up there, you mind coming in the garage for a sec? I have a few things that I think we can fit up there, I just need you to give the final approval. Once I’m done, I’ll bring them up."
“Sure, hon. I got the Christmas stuff taken care of, there’s a ton more room up there.” Elanor’s bright smile was all the motivation Marcus needed to finish a hot project. “Maybe we can take a hot shower when this is all over.” Elanor winks as she slowly grabs his empty plate, her hips swaying seductively as she walked to the sink.
The bins gave her ideas about how she wanted to stack them in the attic, but that was the job for later. Both of them got back to work, spending the next couple of hours completing the first part of their task. As she was placing some knickknacks in a box on top of their vacation buys, she kicks a small box she doesn’t recognize at first.
Once she’s finished placing the box, she picks up the small box off the floor. Eleanor's hand hovered over the box, her mind racing with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. What secrets did it hold? Secrets she had buried so deep, she had almost convinced herself they didn't exist. Almost.
Eleanor's heart pounded as she sifted through the photographs, each one a fragment of a past she had tried to leave behind. The artistic nudes, the shibari shoots, the hardcore pornography—each image a reminder of the ownership she had once craved.
Her breath hitched as she came across the DVDs, their titles a stark reminder of acts she had performed, of roles she had played. El's Debasement. El Worships Her God. The names alone were enough to transport her back to that world, to the feelings of both humiliation and empowerment that had defined her.
A whirlwind of conflict raged within her, the naive nineteen-year-old girl who had loathed authority clashing with the woman she had become, the woman who had built a life of domestic bliss, who had found comfort and security in the arms of her husband.
Maybe I should tell him, the war began in Eleanor's mind. She had shared bits and pieces of her past with Marcus, and he had accepted her for who she was now. But this... this was different. This was a part of her that she had kept hidden, a part that was now demanding to be acknowledged.