*The following events are based on a true encounter. Names, places, and circumstances have been changed to protect anonymity. All individuals in the following story are 18+ *
"Ugh... I hate rainy days... it's always bad for business..." Rose kept mumbling about the rain as she bustled about her small apartment, getting ready for the workday. She had stayed up way too late the night before, chatting online with a variety of potential Dominants only to be disappointed by every single suitor.
She went about her business on autopilot, making coffee and lunch, showering and dressing, carefully coordinating her accessories and jewelry for the day. She packed everything up and kissed her two kitties goodbye, telling them to be good babies and slipping out the door, locking it and heading downstairs to the ground level.
Rose growled softly as she hit the landing, realizing she forgot to grab her umbrella and making the snap decision to just walk quickly to the car, she wouldn't get TOO wet after all, the rain had slowed to a light, misty drizzle for the moment. She stepped out on the paved path that led around the apartment building and to the wooden stairs that led down to the parking lot. She carefully navigated around the puddles and reached the steps, not suspecting a thing as she had used the same stairs to get to her car for the past two years.
Today, Rose was in for a surprise though.
Between the rain and the old wooden steps that had formed a thin layer of algae over the years, it's no surprise that the first foot Rose set on the stairs quickly went sour. Her foot slid right off the step as if it were a sheet of glass. Her forward momentum carried her down the stairs, skipping the top three steps, feet landing on the fourth step, arms flailing to steady her as her feet searched for purchase, failing miserably.
Rose landed on her ass and elbow on the pavement at the bottom of the stairs, eyes slamming shut as she heard the ominous crunch of a major injury....
"I guess I'm calling out today..." Rose could feel the hot tears of pain streaming down her face as she collected herself and examined her arm... definitely broken.
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-Three weeks later...-
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Rose woke up early and true to form, peeked out the window on the way to her coffee pot.
"Goddd, I hateee the rainnn!" Rose sobbed. She turned and saw the pile of dishes overflowing in the sink. Since she had broken her arm three weeks ago, she was down to one arm and could barely function. The dishes were piling up, the cat box was out of control and she couldn't even cinch the trash bag to pull it out of the can, much less lug it down a flight of stairs to the dumpster out back.
Rose had always been a super clean and orderly person, it gave her mind peace and room to explore other interests when her house was sorted out and her chores were done. She sobbed as making coffee, shuffling around piles of dishes to fill the coffee pot with water. This was doing nothing good for her mental health and she was terrified to feel the dark tendrils of depression and hopelessness curling around her heart and mind.
Her mood didn't improve as she struggled to make her lunch and coffee... it plummeted to the depths of depression as she struggled to wash her own hair in the shower, one arm carefully held away from the hot streams of water pouring down and mixing with her defeated tears.
She couldn't do this alone.
Still sniffling she got out of the shower and grabbed her phone. As a woman who fought hard for independence and financial stability, the idea of asking for help was unsavory at best. She texted so many people... one after the other, each declined to help her. They were all either too busy to help, out of state or unable to get there until the following week. Rose's family and friends really didn't understand how much this was hurting her to live in that mess while trying to heal and the fact that none of them seemed to care enough to carve out a couple hours to help her really, really hurt.
Rose ugly cried all the way to work. She felt so alone and helpless. She started texting ex-boyfriends and ex-Dominants, hoping at least ONE man she loved would take pity on her and help.... Same story, no one was available.... no one except one.... She really didn't want to call him, he always loved her, but they just weren't compatible enough to sustain a long-term relationship. Still, his adoration never wavered.
With a sense of defeat and desperation, Rose finally decided to text him....
[Do you remember when we broke up... you said if I ever needed help, to just call? Is that still true?]
His response was immediate.
[What's wrong?]
[I broke my arm and I can't clean my house; everything is piling up and I can't do anything, and you know how that drives me crazy...]
[Call me, now.]
Rose growled as she read the bossy text, "I don't know why I thought he would be different..." but she called him anyways. He answered on the first ring.
"How did your arm get broken?!" He blurted out immediately, Rose expected the concern in his voice but was caught off guard and confused by the dash of anger threaded through his tone.
"Well, hello to you too, Ryan." Rose replied sarcastically.
"How did your arm get broken." Ryan demanded again. It dawned on Rose, Ryan was aware of her track history with terrible choices and abusive partners... his anger was laden with protective energy.
"Chilllll, Ryan. I fell down the stairs out back, they were wet from the rain." Rose explained, there was a pause on the other end of the phone, and she could hear Ryan exhale slowly, a smile sliding across her rose red lips, he was so predictable, steady.
"Well shit girl! You better be more careful with yourself!" Ryan's deep laughter boomed through the phone, relief in his voice as he realized he didn't have to kill a motherfucker for breaking my arm. "Now, what all do you need help with babe? I can come over now."
Rose stuttered for a moment, overwhelmed with the immediate support and willingness to help, such a different tune than the one she'd heard all day.
"U-uh... I... I get home from work at 6pm, is that an okay time for you?"
"Yes, pick me up on your way through, my truck is in the shop."
Rose and Ryan continued to chat for a moment, talking about why his truck was in the shop, the specific chores that needed doing, hammering out the details of going to get kitty litter on the way home with Ryan so that Rose wouldn't have to try to lift it. After about five minutes the bell above the door at Rose's work chimed and she said goodbye and hung up the phone, getting back to her day.
During the down moments of the last few hours at work Rose reflected on their relationship and why it ended. They had spent six years living together and could never quite synchronize their lives. Ryan was a lobsterman who was always gone early in the mornings and Rose was a 9-5 worker, Ryan was always exhausted by the time he got home, and Rose never saw him in the mornings. It slowly evolved into a passionless existence, going through the motions whenever the two weren't fighting in the short evenings they had together. Not to mention, their vastly different lifestyles. Ryan was a mess, forever. Always in stained and ripped work shirts and fishing boots, whereas Rose was always clean and precise, put together in fresh and fashionable business casual clothing. She had goals and dreams and wanted to go somewhere in life and Ryan well... he was going nowhere fast and wanted to keep Rose right there with him.
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Later that evening...
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Rose rushed through closing and got on the road towards home, all the while thinking about Ryan.... And more specifically, what she missed most about Ryan... despite their differences... they were always on FIRE between the sheets. Ryan was tall and strong from working on the boat, even though Rose was plump and curvy like a Goddess of old, Ryan tossed her around the bedroom effortlessly and always romanced her, with those ocean blue eyes, taking his time to make love to her the right way, making her feel beautiful and small in his arms, making her feel like the Goddess she is.
Rose blinked out of her daydreaming and realized she was nearly to Ryan's (and her former) house, shocked that she had just automatically taken the necessary turns without even thinking, driving the long country road without a single thought as she made her way to the coastal home she spent six years living in.
Rose pulled her car into the driveway and parked, smiling at the well cared for rock wall that bordered the driveway. Ryan had built it for her a long time ago after Rose had mentioned always dreaming of having a driveway lined with beautiful rock walls. They still stood.