“I’m sorry you still have to deal with this every month,” I sigh, placing my hand on top of hers.
“Unfortunately, I’m used to it. Being a woman sucks.” Her self-deprecating laugh has me grimacing.
“It’s not fair. Isn’t there something your doctor can do?”
Taylor lets me go, and as much as I want her to keep touching me, I want her to eat more. Hopefully it helps the color return to her face and gives her the comfort she was wanting.
“Truthfully, we’ve been trying for years,” she says, picking up her fork and shoveling a bite of lasagna into her mouth. The moan she lets out has my cock stirring in my sweats. I shift the stool closer to the counter because gray leaves nothing to the imagination.
“It turns out I don’t just have painful periods or a heavy flow. I have endometriosis. Unfortunately, it’s very common but not well understood and there’s no true cure to it.”
“How did they figure out you had it?”
“My symptoms were the first clue, but the true diagnosis was surgical. Since the tissue grows in the abdomen and attaches to the ovaries and other organs, they had to go in laparoscopically to find it and cleaned it up. But the surgery is only temporary because endometriosis feeds off estrogen. So, it keeps coming back.”
My brain catches on the fact that she had surgery, and I had no idea about it. I should’ve been there. We vowed in sickness and health, and I’ve failed that miserably. Yes, the logical part of my brain tells me that I can’t force my wife to let me be there when she ghosted and evicted me from her life, but the heart still hurts just the same.
“I’m sorry you went through that alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. Josh helped take care of me.”
“He didn’t tell me that.” Taylor’s brother and I were still friends, but didn’t keep in touch as much as we used to. Adult life and the distance made it difficult.
“I asked him not to,” she answers, breaking off a piece of bread and tossing it in her mouth. Being intentionally left out of her life in that way sours my gut. It won’t be like that anymore. Now that I have her back, I won’t let her go. Whatever comes our way, we’ll deal with it together.
“Do the girls know?” I can’t imagine if Ivory and Gabby did know that they wouldn’t support her.
“Not really. The surgery helped for a while, and then when things started getting really bad again, I found a specialist to help.”
While we eat, she fills me in on the specialist in Nashville and all the ways they’ve tried to manage her endometriosis over the past couple years.
“But, the IUD had to come out, so we’ve been trying different types of birth control to manage it. It’s either that or surgery, and I’ve been so busy I haven’t wanted to go that route.”
“Would you consider doing the surgery again?”
Finishing the last bite of bread, she talks with her mouth full and shuts down the conversation. “All I’m considering right now is that pint of cookie dough and a movie.”
A look I can’t decipher flashes on her face, but she’s standing and washing her plate before I can push. Deciding it’s best to let it go for now, I usher her out of the kitchen and back to the couch, then clean the kitchen. I deliver the pint of ice cream she requested, settling onto the couch with her, and thinking of ways to help her get through the next week in as little pain as possible.
Period pain should automatically allow every woman access to free pain management. Give me a script and a pass to the front of the line for a controlled substance, because this is fucking unbearable. I’ve been laying on a heating pad on the couch for the last thirty minutes to no avail and I already wish I could just go back to bed, but know the pain would keep me awake anyway.
My phone chimes on the armrest above my head, so I blindly reach for it to see who’s texting and groan when I see Ivory’s message in the group chat.
IVORY
Don’t forget lunch at our house today!
I did, in fact, forget we planned lunch at Ivory and Preston’s house since the guys are off today. Another thing about periods? They come at the worst possible moment and ruin my life every single time. For a while, my IUD had lulled me into a fake sense of normalcy, and I’d blocked out how bad my endo affected me during my periods. I thought with this new medication regime that I was finally rid of these down and out months, but alas, I can’t be that lucky. It worked for a little while—a momentary reprieve from the torture of womanhood—and now, my body is like “aha, bitch, gotcha!” I hate it so much. It might be time to start talking to my doctor about more permanentsolutions. The only reason I hadn’t done it already was because of my busy schedule, but I don’t think I can take this suffering much longer.
MILLER
Say less, Ivey.
Can your husband come play outside for a while?
IVORY
You’re literally in my kitchen right now drinking coffee with him.
