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Taking A Little Break. (private with kingdobbs and lilgirllya)


LilGirlLya

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"Order up Emily!" Her boss shouted at her.

Emily had been enjoying a quiet moment, not really a break, but some time on her phone to text and respond. That all came to a quick end. She wordlessly accepted the tray, only exchanging nods with her boss. He styled himself as a head chef and used terms she would swear he'd only picked up from TV cooking shows and barked at people as if being loud made him the Gorden Ramsey of the diner rather than being a good cook might. Emily smiled though lewd jokes, complaints, and being uncomfortably hit on. Being just over a touch over five feet tall and having good skin never faild to cause people to treat her like a high schooler.This wasn't what she signed up for.

After years in culinary school and taking part time jobs working in restaurants, she was no chef, rather, she found herself waitressing in two part time jobs that both swore in the interview that they had 'opportunity for advancement. Emily took the abuse and the harassment. Every tip, every hour of work was checked against the student loan debt she visualized in her mind. It was then checked against phone bills and rent, among all her other bills and general indulgences that made life liveable.

Emily cried at work. She'd been crying at work for a long time now. For months she'd been applying for new jobs and for months no success. It was draining and she was at her breaking point. Danny and she hadn't had as much time together. She was sleep deprived. She was anxious all of the time. Most embarrassingly of all, she'd taken to wearing pads constantly as after every major anxiety episode she'd find more than a bit of wetness in her underwear if not visible on her pants on extreme occasions. They also helped if her boss would let her step away for a few moments to use the toilet. She'd probably dribbled in her panties more being here than she did as a toddler.

Something had to change soon, Emily could keep living this way she sobbed as she drove home once her shift was over.

 

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Danny watched the clock as another day went by.  He wondered if Emily would be home tonight or not; try as he might, he often found it too hard to keep track of her wildly erratic and unstable schedule, one that lived in sharp contrast with his own predictable nine to five at the office.  

Still, he knew what he was getting into when they moved in together.  He worked hard to make sure the house was taken care of and the bills paid, even if they couldn’t seem to put any dents into the other debts.  It was frustrating to see her talent go to waste in menial jobs one step above McDonalds (and in at least one failed attempt at trying to get her wheels spinning in any direction, AT McDonalds), a frustration he rarely voiced because he knew mostly it wasn’t her fault.  

Well, except on the rare days she never seemed to be able to get past the couch.  

As he left the office, and boarded the train back to the outer boroughs, he saw an ad he’d seen probably a dozen times the past week for a “regression spa”.  And had largely the same reaction to it: “who is this even for?”  It didnt even occur to him that the answer was probably “someone like Emily”; he simply paid it no mind beyond that rhetorical question in his thoughts.  

He sent a quick text as the train squealed it’s way from the station.  “You home tonight?”

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Emily took a few moments after seeing the text come in to calm herself. She felt guilty. If her partner was asking her if she was coming home, then he'd become used to this unsustainable  arrangement. She was upset but didn't know if she needed to be upset with herself for such a toxic situation becoming something other people now planned around.

"Yeah babe, just picked up a late shift and helped with closing. Love you'.

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Danny nodded to himself at the text, and replied with a simple “Love you.”  No doubt, he mused, she’d be exhausted and deflated, which seemed to be her default state nowadays.  

He took the time on the train to read some of the manuscripts he was set to edit, though these days they were manuscripts only in name. He’d wished he had a little more time to write his own works, or at least less depressing circumstances by which he had the time to write.   Still, it felt good to get something out there.

The train pulled into his home station, and he walked the short hop to their little house, at least aware tonight she’d be there when he got there.

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Emily returned home. She paid the Uber driver she'd gotten at the station and walked in. Every step felt heavy and she felt herself fighting back tears as she fumbled for her keys first inside of her purse and then again finding the right one to unlock the door. The lights were out, there was no smell of dinner. It was just another night. Emily trudged inside shrugging off accessories and clothes before walking into the bathroom, turning on the bath and sitting down for a cry. She'd started doing it quite a bit lately, but there was something about setting oaking, especially with some bath bombs or bubble bath, and just letting the day soak away as best as she could. Emily stilled herself as best as possible in  her privacy, focusing on keeping her breathing stable to fight off crying and just enjoying the warm, sudsy goodness of the tub.

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Danny came home to much the same scene, but the subtle cues that Em was home were there as well.  Her keys in the bowl by the front door, shoes carelessly discarded in a hurry in the same place.  She was normally pretty fastidious, but lately it wasn’t just shoes carelessly left where they fell, as he picked up a shirt and tossed it in the hamper.  The door to the bathroom being closed was his other cue.  He softly knocked.  “I’m home, Em.”

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  • 3 weeks later...

Emily took a moment before responding. Feeling like a kid who'd been caught but hadn't done anything wrong. Still, the warm bubbles and suds were nice and even after she pushed the thought from her mind she took a moment. "In the tub,, hun."

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Danny gently opened the door, seeing a somewhat familiar scene.  The mass of bubbles seemed a little excessive to him, but he paid it little mind as he sat down on the closed toilet seat lid.  “Rough day?”  He asked, knowing context made it a largely silly question.  

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“The book is out and doing ok.  The publisher is optimistic anyhow.”  He looks down at her, possibly looking the most relaxed she’s been in days, and yet it seems there’s still nothing but weight on her shoulders.  “I’m gonna go make some tea, do you want one?”  He shifted the subject ever so slightly to still acknowledge her stress but not to talk much more about his success versus her failure.

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"Um..yeah, I think some tea would be great." Emily said, the words hung is quiet space between the two for a bit, "Hey, you know I love you right? Just..just thanks for dealing with me. I know I haven't been the easiest person to be around lately."

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Danny nodded and was ready to head out when she gave her apology.  “I love you too, Em.  Did you think about...about what we talked about the other day?  You know we can handle it for a few weeks anyhow,” he said.  “You can’t keep up like this.”

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