Elena's POV:
I lie still, half-buried into my pillow. A small pinch bites at my lower belly. But the pain is not as bad as yesterday. Usually, the first days are always hell. Then the second and third are not better either, but it's not as bad as the first. At least I can move around myself. Mostly. The fourth and fifth days are always almost bearable.
I twist my face, turning away from the blinding light that seeps in through the curtains.
God! I feel like I was beaten up by gang members or something. My whole body is in pain. I shift, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots to my waist.
Reaching for the table, I grab my painkillers. Then..
Fuck. There's no water.
I drop my head back down, groaning loudly.
The house is awfully quiet. The only sounds are the chirps of the morning birds outside. I sit up slowly, holding the edge of the bed so I don't wobble. My muscles are sor, it's almost like I ran a marathon. I don't know why mine has to be so different.
I stand carefully, rubbing the sides of my waist and back to ease the pain. As I head for the door, I feel the uncomfortable wetness between my legs.
Looking back, I run my eyes over my sheet.
"Please don't be stained. Please don't be stained," I mutter.
Thank God. There's no blood. I'd hate to change my sheets all over again.
I continue for the door, grab the doorknob, and twist it open.
"Adrian!" I gasp, bringing a hand to my chest.
He's standing right in front of the door, one hand lifted as if he was about to knock, with an expressionless look on his face.
His blue eyes do a once-over on me.
"Where are you going?" he asks with creased brows, dropping his hand.
"I...I need water," I manage, putting my hand behind my back to hide the painkillers. All the events from last night come rushing back, and I feel my cheeks warm.
His eyes flick to my hand at my back. Then back to me.
"I'll go get it," he says, then heads for the stairs.
I shoot my hand out, gripping his arm. The sudden action causes a stinging pain low in my stomach and I wince, holding onto him for support.
"You should be in bed," he hisses, steadying me with his other arm.
No. He's already done enough for me. A lot that I'm embarrassed for, so I don't need him doing more.
"I'm fine." I push out of his hold gently, forcing myself to stand straight. "I can do it myself."
He narrows his eyes on me, studying me for some seconds, then without a word, he shifts aside slowly, giving me a way to pass.
I feel a sense of relief as I walk past him, glad that he didn't argue over it, but it's only short-lived when I realize he's following me down.
I grip the stairwell for support as I climb down. The walk down feels longer than usual. Knowing that he's so close behind me sends a jolt of shiver down my spine.
I head toward the kitchen. He moves ahead of me as soon as I step inside, straight toward the cabinets. Then he grabs a cup, fills it with water, and hands it to me without a word.
"Thank you," I mumble, easing onto the stool, and biting down hard on my lower lip to suppress a groan. Then I pop open the pills, shove them in my mouth, and swallow them down with the water.
"You slept throughout the day yesterday," he says, opening the fridge. "You didn't eat."
I look up and stare at his back. His tall figure hovers in front of the fridge as he searches for something.
"I uhh..." The sudden sound that erupts in my belly is loud. Embarrassment floods me instantly.
I squeeze my eyes shut and run both hands along my hair. I keep embarrassing myself in front of this man.
"You're hungry." It's a statement. He pulls a container out, shutting the fridge, then pops it into the microwave, pressing a few buttons.
Then he turns to me and leans against the counter with folded arms as he watches me.
I swallow uncomfortably under his stare.
"You seem better than yesterday."
"Mmm." I nod and take a sip of my water, avoiding any eye contact with him.
He doesn't say anything again. The silence is killing me. It's awkward and charged. I inhale deeply, calming my nerves before I speak.
"Adrian?"
His eyes narrow.
I swallow hard.
"Uhmm… about yesterday. I…"
"I've told you, you don't have to apologize or thank me, Elena," he cuts me off.
"I know. I know," I rush out. "But I still want to."
I catch his eyes.
"I'm… sorry you had to deal with all of that. I was all bloody and messy, but you didn't mind any of it. I'm sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you." I lower my head as shame washes over me.
His expression doesn't change, but I see the corners of his eyes drop slightly.
"Is it always that bad?" He crosses his left leg over his right.
"What?"
"The cramps."
Ohh. That.
"Well," I breathe, "it's never good. I've always had... bad episodes. Since I was a kid. Sometimes it's a bit bearable, and on most, it just hits like a truck." I point a finger at myself. "And this is one of those times."
"And the painkillers help?" he asks, his voice gentler than before.
"Only a bit. It just dulls down the pain by a level or two."
"Mm." He nods lightly.
The microwave beeps. Adrian turns, grabs the container, and sets it in front of me. He nudges a fork toward my hand.
"Eat."
I take the fork from him immediately and start shoving big scoops into my mouth.
God! I was so fucking hungry. Jesus!
The food is warm and comforting and settles into the emptiness of my stomach.
All the while, he just stands watching me without a word. But right now, I don't care if I look like a stuffed hamster. Food is really all that matters to me now.
Through my lashes, I see the corner of his lips tilt upward just slightly.
Is he smiling? Why is he smiling while looking at me? God, please, I hope there's no food on my face!
I slow my eating and start taking small scoops instead, and chewing lightly. I know I said I didn't care, but I really can't embarrass myself further.
After a few minutes, I'm done eating, but the tension in the room is still so palpable. And, he's still fucking staring.
I shift in my seat under his scrutiny.
"It's okay, baby"
Shit. Of all times to remember that.
Those were his exact words. He called me baby. Adrian. My husband. Called me baby. I feel heat creep up my cheeks.
And it rolled out of his lips so naturally like it was nothing new. Why did he do that, though? He's always distant and indifferent towards me, so I don't quite understand why he would call me baby.
I sigh. He probably didn't mean it and was just saying anything in the moment.
"What's wrong?"
"What?" I snap out of my thoughts. "Uhh, nothing," I rush. "I... need to take a bath."
The expression on his face changes. Darkens. He studies me for a beat longer before nodding slowly.
"Will you be fine on your own?"
"Yes. I'll manage."
I just want to leave here now...
"Okay."
As I slide off the chair, the ache in my belly pulses, reminding me it's still there. My movements are slow and steady.
As I walk past him toward the stairs, his voice stops me.
"Elena."
I turn.
His expression is unreadable, but his tone is low.
"Call me if you need anything."
Something warm spreads through my chest at his words, and I swallow the feeling down and force a small nod.
"Okay," I whisper.
My steps are slow as I climb the stairs, his words resounding in my ears. If I call him, would he take care of me like he did yesterday?
I disappear into my room and into my bathroom, closing the door behind me. But when I shed off my clothes, my jaw drops.
Really?!
There's a whole circle of red on my nightie. Where I sat.
Oh my God!!! Did Adrian see it when I walked past?
Of course, he did!!!
Argggh!!!
I slip to the floor, pulling my hair in my hands.
I really, truly, might be cursed.