Look, that was some weird shit, you dying and then returning from the dead. I know it was no accident that you stopped by the Honky Tonk last time you were in town. You were in trouble, Lisa. I could see it all over your face.” He paused for a gulp of his beer. “You know what you did to me? You got any idea just how fucked up my head has been since you walked out that door?

I gotta hand it to ya, Tristan. You may be a world-class fuckup with what you done to Lisa, but you got taste, man. You got good taste.

I’ve got something for you,” he crooned, reaching down and putting my wedding band back on my finger. The huge diamond ring sparkled in a spotlight against the familiar darkness—the darkness of the bedroom where Tristan had perpetrated so many drug-induced sex acts against me. “You forgot your finest jewelry at home. Never leave home without it.

You think all I can do is frog legs? I got Legs on my mind, alright, but yours. I’ll do whatever it takes the save the ass on top of ‘em and everything else, you hear me?

Well, fella, as much as I’d like to stick something up your ass, it ain’t gonna be my finger or anything else on my body—sorry to disappoint.

Tristan looked at me with pleading eyes, as though he could forget for one moment how I was programmed to respond to him—how even now upon hearing his confession, I wanted nothing more than to suck his beautiful cock to fulfillment, to straddle him right here on the edge of this roof, to let him fuck every orifice he’d created on my body. I fought back the feelings of lust, wondering if I’d ever truly be myself again, if I’d ever be free of the programming.

It was better with the subs than it was with the gold diggers or the hookers. These were real people, with real lives, real jobs, real hearts. It meant something when they submitted to my demands. It meant trust, and trust meant love. I got that--I mean, I understood that. And, oh, Lisa, how I needed that—but I didn’t know how to deal. I was too broken.

Tristan stepped away from me. “No, Robbie, listen. If there were any other way to turn off her programming, I would tell you. Lisa wants to know what she really feels, free of the programming, and I think we should help her. The pills will still keep her a bit compliant until we get her weaned off of them, but at least we can turn off her compulsion to please me sexually. Then she can really choose who she loves.

Just know that I always have, and always will really love you, Lisa. Baby or no baby. Past or no past. I loved you then and I love you now.

Between the inner and outer beaches, a strand of woods thrived: palms, palmettos, mahogany, figs, and calabash. Coconut palms and fig trees dropped enough fruit to feed the wildlife that swooped by in droves. It was so easy to catch a fish with your bare hands, Tristan and I had made a game of it during our weeks of lovemaking on the warm, supple sand. It truly was paradise.