8. Aiyana

Chapter eight

Aiyana

T oday is going to be such trash. I had really hoped to get some stuff done around the apartment or, at the very least, relax. But my uterus is leaving no hope in sight of that happening.

I started my period on Friday, and these cramps just won't let up. I just want one normal fucking menstrual cycle that doesn't leave me in a puddle of my own blood like a stuck pig. I climb out of bed, planning to hop in the shower and change before balling up my linens and bleaching everything in sight, but my cell rings before I can make it to the shower.

Kat is still home; I know that for a fact because she hurt her ankle on that hike Kas tried to drag me on the other day. I keep telling everyone that exercise is bad for your health, but they never listen.

Lifting my comforter and shaking it out, all I'm greeted with is the sight of my own blood, no phone to be found, but the damn thing keeps ringing.

I crouch down to check under the bed, and sure enough, it's lying just within reach. It must've fallen while I was sleeping or at least trying to sleep. I grab it and see Kas's face flash across the screen. Panic sears through me, but it's been ringing for so long that I've only got a second to make a decision.

I click accept, and there's silence on his end.

"Hello," I say, annoyance lacing the word. "Is this supposed to be some dumb prank?"

He finally answers, his deep voice echoing over the line, "No, I just hadn't expected you to actually answer."

His surprised delight sends tingles down my spine, but it doesn't matter what he wants. Or what I want, for that matter.

"What is it, Kas?" I ask, trying to sound rude as a defense tactic, one that's never worked with him. I actually think he likes it.

"You. Always you." He chuckles. I don't say anything to that because he knows I won't, so there's no point in coming up with a response. Doesn't he know how much it kills me that he won't just let this go? I want him so badly that I used to wake up sobbing from dreams about him leaving me, but when I'd wake up and roll over, hoping he'd be lying beside me, I was always hit with the realization that it was never him who left me. And that alone was so much worse than any nightmare my tired mind could conjure.

The first two years after I left were like that. I got the worst sleep of my life in the beginning.

It hurts me too. He's not the only one. But if he knew the real reason we can't be together, he'd never let me get away with this bullshit. We had both emphasized the importance of open communication. That's something we always had in spades, but not now.

He huffs. "I know you started your period the other day, and I'm stopping by to bring snacks and a brace my athletic trainer gave me for Kat. I just wanted to see if you needed anything—painkillers, pads, tampons, chocolate… sushi? Anything."

My chest aches as I hold back a sob that threatens to release itself from my throat. "I'm good, Kas. Thanks though," I tell him, though my body decides at precisely that moment to call me out for being a big, fat fucking liar. I keel over in pain, a cramp wracking my body until my legs tremble with the effort to hold me upright. I release a squeak of pain, and I know he hears it when his tense intake of breath comes over the line.

I'm standing in my room in excruciating pain; my lower back is killing me, my breasts are sore, and my thighs are covered in blood. This is the least sexy I've ever felt, and it only hurts my pride more that arguably the most sexy person I know is on the other end of the line.

"I'm on my way," is all he says before the call drops.