Flash Fiction Fridays: Choices

Dasara stared at the cliff edge then glanced back at the stony-faced man behind her. His focus remained unflinching. She swallowed back tears. ” Don’t make me choose, Domarius.”

He crossed his arms. “Your choice was made very clear, Ara. You didn’t want to be mine even though you made a vow. And those who betray the Society, betray me, only have one place to go. Ten feet under.” His lips curved into a tight, pained smile. “Be glad I see my wife differently than one of my men. They’d already be dead. You get a choice instead.”

She swallowed. She could take it back, say she didn’t know what she’d been thinking. That was true enough. She hadn’t been thinking clearly since she agreed to join the Society and then married their leader after a charming but short courtship.

Now here she was, faced with the horror of where her choice had led. To a cliff’s edge where, whether she jumped or not, she would be dead. If not on the rocks at the bottom of the literal cliff, then on the rocks of the cliff of insanity under her husband’s stifling watch.

She didn’t want it this way. Leaving had seemed the only way out because he didn’t listen. Well, maybe he did. She’d never tried, and right now seemed like a good time to try seeing if he would. What did she have to lose? “Dom…” She turned to face him. “Can we talk this out, please? I made a mistake, I know, and I’m sorry.”

“You realize that now, do you? Did you think I’d see your attempt to leave me with no warning as anything less than betrayal?” Hurt flashed on his face. “Has it been so miserable?”

“Not at first.” Her shoulders slumped. “But no one can live in a cage by unspoken rules forever no matter how gilded the cage. And so I’m suffocating in the cage you’ve built. Maybe the cliff really is my best option.” She glanced at the yawning chasm. “Running didn’t have to permanent. I didn’t want permanent, and so I thought…”

“You thought?” He shook his head. “Not about the impact of your decision, clearly. If you had, you would’ve known better. You would’ve talked to me instead of shutting me out, and you would’ve known I’d have to punish you if you ran.” He pointed to the cliff. “So you have a choice. Come home to talk it out and decide on a way to save both of our reputations. Or die as any other traitor would.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him with tear-blurred eyes. He would never admit that he wanted her to choose him over suicide, but she knew him well enough to read the plea he’d never make out loud with his second-in-command watching from a distance. The plea he might not even make aloud if they were alone. She swiped away tears and sucked in a slow breath. “We can talk it out at home? You’ll listen? Be reasonable?”

“Yes. We always could have done that, you know.” His expression softened, but his posture remained tense. “You’re my wife, not one of my men. You have that privilege. I’m always willing to hear you out. Just because I give the orders and I’m in charge doesn’t mean your opinion is meaningless or can’t sway mine. But you didn’t even try. You never came to me at all.”

She winced, cheeks burning. No, she hadn’t. She’d assumed based on how he treated his men that he would be unapproachable. “I’m sorry, Dom.” She hung her head and stepped away from the cliff edge. “This was all a terrible mistake. I… I do want to go home. Take me back? Please?”

He strode to her and wrapped her in his arms. “You talk to me when you have a problem with something, you hear? I’ll listen. I promise.”

She nodded.

He squeezed her closer. “I need you to say it. Say you will. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she whispered.

He pressed her head to his chest with a sigh, the weight of his hand on the back of her neck a reassurance now not a silent warning or command. Then again, maybe this gesture of his had never been either of those to start. She didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. Her own assumptions had blinded her, and who knew what else she’d gotten wrong?

“I still have to do something to clean this up,” he murmured.

She tensed. Would he punish her? Past transgressions had required it, so this one would too, probably. She shivered. Punishments when he was truly upset were never fun. True, she always knew when she’d stepped out of line and felt better later like the punishment had wiped the slate clean for them to start over, but they also made her feel sad. She wanted them to discuss what things deserved that and what things didn’t. She could only imagine what he might do to make sure that the secret of her flight was kept.

As if he knew her thoughts, he said, ” But I think today was punishment enough. I’ll tell everyone you were going through some severe depression and weren’t thinking straight. I didn’t know how bad it was until too late, but you’re on meds and are seeing a therapist to address your recent attempt to run away and throw yourself off the cliff. Thankfully, I found you just in time, and for now, you’re staying at home to recover.”

“Elaborate.”

He snorted. “Close enough to the truth to be believable.”

She laughed and pressed a palm over his chest where his heart raced. How scared was he that she would jump? He cared far more than she’d guessed. Her chest tightened. “I really am sorry for hurting you. For running instead of talking to you.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair and sighed. “I know. Now, let’s get you home.”