Page 78 of Breakout
I let him hold me as I struggle to pull myself together. When I finally do, I pull back and look up at him. He wipes away my tears before cupping my face.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
I nod.
“Anything I can do to make it better?”
My voice raw with emotion, I choke out., “You already are.”
He places a kiss on the tip of my nose before helping me back into bed. “You lie there. I got everything you need.”
Then he grabs one of the bags and starts setting things on my desk.
“Tampons. These are the ones Grace uses, so I hope they are the same ones you use, but if not, I can go get the right ones. Nighttime pads. Grace keeps these under the sink, so I figured they were a good product. Menstrual pills. Electrolyte packets.Water. Chocolate. Popcorn. Chips. Fruity candy. And a heating pad.”
“You did not have to go buy all of that. You are over the top, Beckett Hayes,” I tell him, a smile on my face.
“You’re my wife. I promised to take care of you in sickness and health. Honey, I’m keeping my word.”
I shake my head. “Thank you.”
“Oh, that’s not it. That’s just from the store. Then I went to Pedro’s Cantina and got your favorite tacos and that little tres leches cake you love.”
My mouth waters as he mentions the food.
I swear he makes it easy to fall for him. I should be keeping my distance. Protecting my heart, but instead I never want him to leave.
“You want to stay and watch a movie?” I ask him shyly.
This isn’t our MO. We don’t just hang out together.
“That was the plan.” He picks up my laptop, handing it to me. “Pick one out while I set up our food and your heating pad.”
“I have one of those, you know,” I tell him.
He shrugs. “I didn’t know, and the store associate said this was the best one.”
I quickly pull up a rom-com about a couple fake dating for their mutual friends’ wedding. I don’t know why I picked that one, but it feels right. Then I make room for him behind me on my bed as I set the laptop on the corner of my desk so we can both see it.
He hands me my food, then places the heating pad on my lower belly. When he climbs into bed with his own food, I can’t help but enjoy how domestic it all feels.
Is this what my parents had?
My heart jolts at the thought. I don’t think about them too much anymore. It usually brings me too much pain, but it feels right tonight.
We finish eating, Beckett getting up to clear away our food. He offers me my cake, but I turn it away, telling him to put it in my fridge. When he climbs back into bed with me, I turn over onto my stomach.
“What are you doing? That cannot be comfortable,” he tells me.
“It’s the only way for the heating pad to really relieve my cramps. I need the pressure.”
He scoffs. “Turn on your side.”
I do as he asks, facing my desk. He nestles in behind me, his arm coming down over the heating pad, giving me the pressure I need.
“Is that good or do you need more?” he whispers into my ear.
“No. That’s good.”
