Page 76 of Dreams and Desires

As I hold her, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a peace I haven’t felt in a long time. Tonight was a turning point, not just for Juniper and me, but for my relationship with my parents, for the direction of my life. We’ve crossed a threshold, and while the future is still uncertain, it feels brighter, more hopeful.

When we finally head to bed, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Tonight, I took a step away from the life I thought I wanted and moved toward something more meaningful, more real. And as I look at Juniper, lying beside me, her breath slow and even as she drifts off to sleep, I know that it was the right choice.

I brush a strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her skin. “You really didn’t have to do all this, you know,” she murmurs, her voice soft, drowsy.

“I know,” I reply softly as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile peace we’ve found. “But I wanted to. Because you’re worth it. Because you’re everything.”

She doesn’t respond, but I feel her smile against my chest, a small, contented smile that says more than words ever could.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Juniper

The next morning, I wake up feeling a bit damp between my legs. Groggily, I stretch and feel a sharp cramp in my lower abdomen. Another cramp hits, confirming my worst suspicion.

“Bloody periods,” I mutter under my breath.

I look down and see the telltale stain on the white Egyptian cotton sheets. Shit! Panic rises as I quickly try to cover up the evidence, but it’s too late. My cheeks flush with heat as embarrassment floods through me.

Zade stirs beside me, his arm reaching out instinctively. His eyes flutter open, and he sees me fumbling with the sheets. Concern replaces his sleepy expression.

“Juniper, what’s wrong?”

I swallow hard, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I got my period,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I didn’t expect it, and I didn’t pack anything, since we left in such a rush.”

He blinks, processing my words, then sits up, the worry on his face melting into understanding. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s natural,” he says softly.

I try to cover the stain again, feeling mortified. “I’m so sorry about the sheets.”

He sighs in relief and then looks at me with empathy. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’ll go get you what you need.”

Once he leaves, I head to the bathroom and soak in the tub, letting the warm water soothe my aching body. I close my eyes, trying to push away the embarrassment. Zade handled it well, and for once, I don’t feel judged for something that’s a natural part of being a woman.

As I lie there, it hits me how deeply Zade has embedded himself in my life. He’s shown me kindness, patience, and care that I never expected. And despite my initial fears, I’m starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, I deserve to feel this way.

I get out of the bathroom and head to the kitchen wrapped in a white bathrobe, hoping it doesn’t get stained. Suddenly, I hear a noise and let out a startled scream, spinning to see Zade standing in the kitchen.

“Sorry, you scared me.”

He’s back with period supplies—he has so many of them that it makes me laugh. “I wasn’t sure what you needed, so I got everything,” he says with a sheepish smile.

I’m about to go inside the bathroom when a cramp hits me again, and I flinch. Zade’s face fills with concern. “Does it hurt too?”

“Yes… every single month since I was 13!” I reply with a grimace, trying to manage a weak smile.

Zade’s blue eyes widen with understanding, and he smiles again. “Ahh. I understand. Go lie on the couch. I’ll make you a hot compress and find you some painkillers.”

Shaking my head, I bite my lip. “Zade, you don’t have—“

“I want to. Let me help.”

Muttering thanks, I head to the living room. Turning on the TV to fill the weird silence, I twist my fingers in my lap as I wait for Zade.

He brings out some tea and painkillers, patiently waiting for the cup back after I swallow the pills. He returns from the kitchen with a bundle of warm towels, handing them to me with a look of concern.

“Here, hold these to your stomach,” he instructs.

I take the towels, pressing them against my lower abdomen, and offer him a grateful smile. He sits beside me on the couch, grabbing the remote.

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