When we finish, we’re both breathing hard, tangled together in the sheets. I’m breathless and boneless and so in love I can barely stand it. Leo’s tracing lazy patterns on my hip, his lips pressing soft kisses to my shoulder, and I want to freeze this moment. I want to keep it forever.
“Shower?” Leo asks, already pulling me out of bed.
We shower together—something that’s become routine, though it usually takes twice as long as it should because we can’t keep our hands off each other. This morning is no exception, though I do notice I’m feeling a bit off. Queasy, maybe. My stomach feels unsettled in a way that has nothing to do with what we just did.
But I don’t mention it. It’s probably nothing. Stress, maybe, from everything that’s been happening.
When we get out, Leo dries off and starts getting dressed, pulling on slacks and a crisp white shirt that makes his olive skin look even more golden. I unabashedly admire him from where I’m wrapped in a towel, watching as his back muscles ripple as he pulls on his pants.
“I’ve got back-to-back meetings and conference calls today,” Leo says, coming over to kiss my forehead. “Something about the shipment routes Dante’s been working on. Probably won’t be free until late afternoon.”
“That’s okay,” I say, even though part of me wants to ask him to stay. To spend the whole day in bed with me. “I’ll find something to do.”
“There’s a new book delivery that came in yesterday,” Leo says, straightening his collar. “I had them put it in the library. That mystery series you mentioned liking.”
My heart swells again because of course he remembered. Of course he ordered books for me.
“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it for so much more than just books.
Leo kisses me one more time then he’s gone, leaving me alone in our bathroom with the scent of his cologne lingering in the air.
Has it always smelled this badly?
The moment the door closes, my stomach lurches violently.
I barely make it to the toilet before I’m vomiting, my whole body heaving. It comes out of nowhere, this sudden intense nausea,and I grip the porcelain bowl with shaking hands while my stomach empties itself.
What the hell?
When there’s nothing left, I slump back against the wall, breathing hard and clammy with sweat. That was…that wasweird. I felt fine a minute ago. Well, not fine exactly, but not like this.
I force myself to stand on shaky legs and make my way to the sink. My reflection looks pale, my eyes slightly watery, and I reach for my toothbrush with trembling hands.
The moment the toothpaste hits my tongue, I gag. The mint taste is usually refreshing but it makes my stomach revolt again and I’m bent over the sink, dry heaving because there’s nothing left to throw up.
I drop the toothbrush like it burned me and stare at it in alarm.
What thehellis wrong with me?
I’ve been tired lately, I realize. So tired. And I’ve been crying at everything. I cried at a commercial the other day, for god’s sake. A commercial about dogs. Inevercry at commercials. I’m not a crier in general, but lately it’s like my emotions are all over the place.
And now this. The nausea, the vomiting, the sensitivity to smells and tastes. I don’t get it.
Pushing it from my mind, I bend down to look in the cabinet under the sink for some hair product. My eyes scan over bottles and containers and?—
A box of tampons.
I freeze, staring at them.
When was my last period?
The room suddenly feels way too small. No, seriously, whenwasmy last period? I try to count back, but my brain is spinning and I can’t think straight.
One before the wedding.Definitelybefore the wedding, because I remember being relieved I wouldn’t have to deal with it on what was supposed to be my wedding day. Then one right after, and that’s it.
I count the weeks. My last period was six weeks ago.
I’m never late. Ever. My periods are like clockwork—every twenty-eight days, give or take twelve hours. I’ve been regular since I was fifteen.