“Sorry,” she managed a soft shrug, brows draw together. “I must have lost track of my cycle while I was dealing with… everything else.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” I answered gently, holding up the pain medication and water as she dried her hands. “I have drugs.”
“I don’t know if they’ll work.” The words came out slightly frustrated as her eyes grew teary. She wiped at them. “My ADHD makes pain management really hard and the reduction in my medication is going to make it worse.”
I hadn’t even considered all the physical ways she might be affected by this plan to decrease her medication. “Would they at least take the edge off?”
“Maybe. A little.”
“Here,” I handed her the bottle and waited while she shook 800 mg worth of ibuprofen into her hand and swallowed them with the water. “Did you bring a heating pad or anything?”
She shook her head. I knew it was a longshot.
“I’ll see what’s at the house later. Body heat and a bit of pressure’ll do for now. Do you want to try lying down again?”
“I’m going to be really wiggly,” she hedged as I took her hand, pulling gently.
“That’s okay,” I reassured her.
“But you need sleep,” her voice was small, frustrated.
“Darlin’, I spent thirteen years sleeping on carriers in themiddle of the ocean with all sorts of bunkmates. I’ll be fine.”
That earned me a watery half-smile as she let me lead her back to bed.
I settled against the pillows and opened my arms. She crawled in carefully and I guided her to rest her back against my chest as I spooned her gently. My hand settled flat against her lower abdomen as she pulled the covers over us.
“Better?”
“Yeah,” the word came out on a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry about this.”
“Alex, there’s no need to apologize,” I pulled her tighter against me.
She was quiet for a moment, then shifted restlessly. Her leg moved, foot flexing and pointing under the covers.
I adjusted my position to give her more room to move, hand staying steady on her abdomen. “You need to move, move. I’m not going anywhere.”
“This is miserable,” she whispered—I could hear fresh tears in her voice. “Three days off my meds and now this. I feel like everything hurts.”
“I know,” I pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”
Her foot kept moving under the covers—shake, flex, point, repeat. Restless energy working through her system. I stayed still and let her fidget.
“I might have to just stay in bed for a day or two,” she said after a while.
“Whatever you need. There’s no pressure to do anything while we’re here.”
She shifted against me, getting more comfortable, and I felt some of the tension start to leave her body.
“Thank you,” she murmured, “for not making this weird.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve seen a lot worse than period cramps. This is just a Monday.”
That got a small laugh as she settled deeper into my arms. I stayed awake until I felt her breath even out—her movements slowing and then stopping as she relaxed enough to rest.
I woke to sunlight bleeding around the edges of the curtains in our room. Alex had turned over and was curled against my chest—finally sleeping soundly. I checked my phone. Just after eight—later than I usually slept when I was here, but she’d been restless until almost five. The main house would be buzzing with breakfast. I eased away from Alex, leaving a note on the nightstand that I’d be back soon.
The ranch was already alive with activity as I stepped into the cool morning air—workers moving cattle in the distance, equipment firing up in the barns, a few guests heading off to morning activities. I headed toward the kitchen of the family home.
