Preparing

You spend the rest of the hour that you set up to be command-free talking to Maisie about how to solve the problem of this man that knows about the curse. It’s hard to get anywhere because you believe the best path is to use the curse to deal with this man, one way or another, while Maisie would rather run and hide. She gets even more adamant when you bring up the idea of killing the guy, getting rid of him permanently.

She doesn’t want to be a person who kills people, and she doesn’t want you to command her to be okay with it or forget about it after she does it. She starts explaining her plan to liquidate a bunch of assets and vanish. Take Clair with you and leave the country. Use her curse to blend in somewhere safe. You can’t see it. Uprooting Claire from her school would be bad enough, but you can’t see Maisie leaving this all behind. She’d really blossomed and found her passion. You weren’t going to let some low life asshole take this all away from your family.

But as Maisie explains you find yourself impressed with her plan. She’s accounted for so many variables, covered so many possible issues you wouldn’t have ever thought of. This is the Maisie you love, the Maisie you didn’t see when you were younger and she seemed like she was just living her life without a care in the world.

Of course, you know better than that now. She had been looking for a specific type of man, someone to trust with the curse. She had found you, and had since repeatedly told you that you were better than she had even thought you were. You find yourself staring at your wife, beautiful, focused, brilliant, almost ruthless in the cold efficiency of her thoughts. You marveled at it, but you also knew what it was like to be on the wrong side of that ruthlessness. You could end up there again, too. Maisie could follow her plan, walk away, change her entire life, be a new person and never look back. You don’t doubt that she could. You also understand that crossing a line, killing someone, that would change her too. And once killing was on the table, where would her brilliance lead her? You can see why she wants to run. Even if you disagree, you understand that her fear of being corrupted by the curse is greater than her desire to preserve the life the two of you had built.

Maisie reaches up, pushes her hair behind her ear, that familiar motion that has made your heart leap since you were an awkward teenager in the first throws of what has become the love of your life. You won’t give this up. You won’t let this man chase you off, change everything. You were determined to find a way to rebuild your relationship with your wife, and you were going to do it here, in Atlantic City. You wouldn’t let her fears or some low-life scumbag ruin this.

“Babe, are you listening?” Maisie interrupts your thoughts.

“Sorry, Maisie, I was distracted.” You apologize. She smiles, touches your cheek and kisses you lightly on your lips.

“I’m so sorry, Babe.” She practically whispers, you’ve lost count of how many times she’s apologized.

“I know, Maisie, we’ll get through this, trust me.” You say.

“Babe,” Maisie says, looking at you. “I trust you, you don’t need to command me.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Maisie reverse that last command.”

“Fuck, get off me, get away from me!” Maisie shrieks as she stands up, pushes you away.

“Maisie, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t trust you. Shit, Babe, why would you command me like that?” She says. She’s panicked, shaking.

“Sorry, Maisie, cancel all commands I’ve given you. . .” You almost end there, but quickly think to add “In the last, uh, three years.” You just shout it out, any number less than 10 would work.

Maisie leans against the table and breathes heavy. “Oh, God, babe, that was awful.”

“What the hell just happened, Maisie?”

“You told me to trust you, then reversed it, I suddenly didn’t trust you at all. It was terrifying,” Maisie starts to cry, “knowing someone I didn’t trust had unlimited power over me.”

You walk over, hold her. “I’m so sorry.”

“You cancelled more than those commands too, babe.” She says, looking up at you. “I could feel it.”

“Are you okay with me asking you to say what all I canceled?” You ask, genuinely curious.

She nods. “Can you write it, babe, make sure the wording is what you intend?”

That’s a good idea. You get a pad of paper and pencil from one of the drawers of supplies in the room. You start to write out a command, then thinking better, erase her name at the start and write out everything else.

_____, Tell me the commands that I just cancelled, along with when I gave them.

You hand the paper to Maisie, “Does that look good?”

She smiles when she sees what you did. “Yeah, it does. Thanks, babe.” You grab the pencil, write her name in front then hand it back to her. She reads it, then sits upright, staring off just past you as she fulfils the command:

“Two years, 7 months ago, by text, Maisie, wear whatever you want, don’t worry about what those assholes think.

Two years, 3 months ago, by text, Oh come on, Maisie, you know you know you’d rather eat my leftover pizza than visit another trendy restaurant, smile emoji.

One year, 8 months ago, note on the table, Maisie, Don’t forget Claire.

One year, 8 months ago, by text, Maisie, I understand you didn’t have a choice with the investors, but if you tell Claire you are going to her game, you need to make it to her game.

One year, 8 months ago, by text, I don’t know, Maisie, just find a way to prioritize your family.

Ten months ago, by text, Maisie, I rescheduled Claire’s dentist appointment, don’t schedule anything more for her until I tell you.

Seven months ago, written on the fridge, Maisie, don’t eat the last of the cheese.

Three months ago, by text, Maisie, just put your phone in the basket when you get home and spend time with us.

Three weeks ago, by text, Maisie, Rob overcharged us. Seriously, never deal with that asshole again.

Shit. You remember most of those. Maisie dealing with sexist investors that wanted her to “dress more feminine.” You laughed at the pizza one, especially the way she said "smile emoji", but that was a command, you made her prefer your leftover pizza to new restaurants. Then texts from that week you had a fight over Maisie missing out on family events because of the Casino deal heating up. You had been impressed at the work she put in to be better, but now you know you had commanded her to do it. She didn’t have a choice. The cheese one also made you laugh, you had been irritated for months that Maisie would always leave the last little bit of cheese in the fridge, knowing you commanded her to do that was as funny as it was sad. That last one you felt bad about, it was your mistake. You were having a bad day and then read the bill wrong, Rob was a damn good mechanic.

“I'm sorry babe.” Maisie says, looking at her hands. You look at her. “I thought that deal would fall through if I didn’t attend all the meetings. I’m sorry.” It was good to see she remembered that situation too. When Maisie re-prioritized you and Claire her agent took care of everything and the contract was signed without a hitch, she had been half-killing herself needlessly.

“Well at least I know why the leftover pizza always disappears so fast.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Honestly, I’m surprised that I didn’t give you more commands than that.”

“You rarely write my name out.” She says. “And this is just commands that were still active.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Well, a couple of weeks ago you left a note on the fridge, “Maisie, get eggs, milk, and cheese.”

“Okay, I see. That command would expire as soon as you followed it.”

“Yeah, although I got that one when I came home from the store, so I had to go buy more.” She says with a nervous smile.

“Is that why you made that custard?” You ask her.

She nods as her face falls and she starts crying again. “I had to give you a reason why I bought extra milk and eggs.”

Her words hit you, just two weeks ago she had worked to deceive you, cover up that you could still command her. You rest your head in your hands, breathe. She holds you, as she cries.

“I’m so sorry, babe. If I. . .” She stopped herself. “No, I should have known. I should have realized what I was putting you through.”

You put your hand on her arm, it really does help to know that she realizes what she did to you. You rest your head on hers.

“How often were you hiding it from me?” You ask. You aren't really upset, you already knew she was hiding it from you, but it still feels like a fresh betrayal, at least a little bit.

“At least once a week, sometimes more.” She admits.

“Huh.” You are a bit surprised by that. “I never noticed. But you always do whatever I want anyway, so it kind of. . .” You trail off as you have a thought. “Maisie, did you always give in to me so I wouldn’t figure out when I was commanding you?”

Maisie nodded as the curse compelled her to speak. “That was part of it. But I also felt like I owed you, When I took your voice I told you I’d make it up to you, I wanted to keep that promise.”

You just sat there, letting it sink in.

“But honestly, babe,” she continued, “I enjoy doing things for you. It started out calculated, but making you happy, you always reciprocate, and it isn’t like you are demanding. When you actually ask for something, I think it is fair that you get it.”

That was comforting, to know that behavior she started as a manipulation turned into something better, at least if she was telling you the truth.

“Maisie, tell me, is that the truth, is that really how you feel?” You ask her, fearing the response.

“Mostly true, but the major motivation remains the guilt I feel for taking your voice and deceiving you.” She says it almost robotically, then pulls her hands from you and sits back, wrapping herself in her arms.

“I deserved that.” She says.

“I want to trust you, Maisie, but. . .”

“No, you are right not to trust me.” She says. “In fact, why would you even bother trying to trust me, you can **** me to tell you everything, you can order me to never lie to you.”

You pull her towards you and wrap her up in your arms. You aren’t happy with her, but just as she didn’t realize how much she was hurting you, you are seeing more clearly than ever how afraid of her curse Maisie is. How it drove her to betray you in the first place, and then deceive you all these years. It isn’t lost on you that the way she talks about the curse eating away at you, corrupting you, is something she’s been going through herself.

“I don’t want to control you Maisie, I want us to have a good relationship.” You say.

“I know, babe.” she says, leaning her head against your arm. “Really, I know.”

You kiss her hair, hold her close. “So how do we mitigate the curse? How do we help you be less afraid of it? And at the same time keep me from being corrupted by it.” You ask her, but really you are looking for a way to prepare her for what the two of you need to do. You know she won’t like it, but you’ve made up your mind. And after all, you are the master in this relationship. You’d rather not use the curse to make Maisie go along with getting rid of this guy, but if that's what it takes. . .