I continue checking yes to things I've fantasized about, from hair pulling to spanking to toys, but there are a lot of things on this list that I’ve never heard of, but I’m curious about all of it, soI put them as soft limits. There are also a lot of things that seem sexual in nature. I’m not sure how relevant those are, but I finish the list anyway. Turns out I have surprisingly few hard limits though. I knew I liked rough sex and being bossed around in the bedroom, but I had no idea there wereso manythings a person could do and be into.
It’s darker outside now. I’ve finished the list, showeredandeaten dinner like he told me to. Now what? My nerves are wearing thin as I sit and anticipate his return.
When my phone rings suddenly, I’m pulled from my thoughts and butterflies swirl low in my belly, hoping the universe has heard my prayer and Ryker is calling to check on me. Those butterflies die a painful death when I see my mother’s face glowing brightly on my screen. Fuck my life.
This time, when I answer, she’s frantic and already spewing words before I can speak.
Her breaths are quick and labored as she pauses slightly between each word. “Arabella, are you there?”
“I’m here, Mom. What’s wrong?”
“Well, I was so upset after we talked, I ended up with a headache. You know how easily I can be triggered, dear.”
Classic Mom move, incoming. She’s fishing for an apology. But I’m not in the mood. Wrinley would encourage me to stand my ground and that’s exactly what I’m going to attempt to do.
“I’m sorry you have a bad headache. I don’t see how that’s my fault, though.”
“I bet you’d feel differently if you knew I’d fallen,” she chides. “I was going to ask you to help me with something when you came over, but since you clearly don’t love your own mother enough to come when she needs you, I did it myself. And now, I’m stuck in the middle of the floor.”
Of course this would happen, the second I grow some balls and try to set even a baby boundary. I should have known better than to think it wouldn’t backfire.
“Mom, stop. You know I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t come by earlier. Let’s try to figure this out. Can you crawl to the chair and hoist yourself up with your arms?”
Her voice starts to shake. “You know I’m not strong enough for that.”
I wish she’d at least try, but I know she won’t. Not without a fight. I do feel bad that she fell trying to do something she’d normally ask of me, but it’s getting harder and harder to not resent her because of it. All she had to do was wait for me. What the fuck was so urgent? Now I have a headache. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I blow out a breath, in a futile attempt to center myself. I have to go check on her. I should at least make sure she didn’t hit her head or otherwise injure herself. At this rate, there’s no telling what else could go wrong if I don’t.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Will you be ok until I get there?”
My chest tightens when I remember I don’t have my car. I also don’t have money to get a rideshare, since I lost my fucking job.
“Nahhhhhhhhh,” she draws out. “Don’t come on my account. I’m not your responsibility.”
I pace the floor for the next half hour, listening to her whine and complain about how no one loves her. Okay, I’m not actually listening. Instead, I replay multiple past conversations in my head, trying to find one moment where I said the wrong thing and gave her the impression that I don’t love her. If I could go back and say things differently to make her see, I would.
She eventually says goodbye and I continue to pace, rubbing the back of my neck and biting my lip. I wish Ryker was here.
Ryker
My cell buzzes on the counter, and I pick it up to see it’s Arabella.
Bella:Heyyyyyy–sooooo, I need to run to Mom’s. Something’s happened. My car is still at my apartment and I have no money in my checking account to get a rideshare. Could I possibly borrow enough to get a ride there and back? I promise I’ll pay you back.
My brow furrows at her message and I have questions. I nod to Jake and step away so I can get to the bottom of this without all the noise. It’s been steady so far, but nothing he and Roxie can’t handle.
I step into my office to call her and she takes entirely too long to answer.
“Heyyyyy,” she says, stretching out the word, punctuating it with a light chuckle that tells me she’s nervous about something.
“Tell me what’s going on, Arabella,” I demand.
“Mom called. She had an accident. She called earlier and wanted me to come over. I said it wasn’t a good time for me and then I just got off the phone with her again. She fell, Ryker. She fell because I wasn’t there to help her with something, so she did it herself and now she’s on her floor and I don’t know if she’s really hurt or not. I feel bad that I haven’t seen her in a few days and I’m worried. I’d like to check on her.”
Fucking Christine. Is she still up to her same old tricks? It’s been six years, and while I suppose it’s possible she’s changed, it sounds like that’s not the case. The gaslighting and manipulation of her kids, especially her daughter, were tough to watch when we were together. I hated it then, but the thought of her stilldoing it now makes my jaw clench so tightly, I could break a tooth.
Teenagers are more impressionable than they like to believe. Often, Christine would make comments about her weight, how she dressed and what she ate. It’s no wonder she’s grown up with body image issues. Every outfit was criticized for being too tight on her body. I definitely look at her differently now than I did back then, but I never understood where her mother was coming from or why she was so damn critical. She wasn’t, and still isn’t, what would be considered thin, by the unrealistic weight standards that exist only to set people up to fail. All I see now is her beauty–from her long, blonde, wavy hair to her round, spankable ass and thick, juicy thighs.
