God, fuck.Fuck.Why does this always happen?
My shoulders and legs curl. I’m careful not to use the muscles in my lower abdomen, but it’s too late. A sob racks my frame.
“Hey, hey. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” Leo cups my cheek, moving his body away from me—and that breaks my heart. I can’t do anything right. I don’t want to know how pathetic I look. “I’m right here. What can I do? What do you need?”
He wipes away my tears with his thumb, but they fall faster, trickling down the side of my face and into my hair. It hurts to breathe, let alone cry. Any movement makes the pain worse.
Leo sits up like he plans on pulling me into his arms. I hold my hand up.
“I’m sorry. P-please don’t move me yet.” I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see whatever’s on his face. “I-I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it long enough for you to finish.”
He nudges my chin to make me look at the concern written in every wrinkle and pinch, and his voice echoes that same worry. It kills me that it’s my fault he’s feeling this way.
“Listen to me when I say this: if you don’t enjoy it, I don’t enjoy it. Don’t ever try to push through or make yourself sufferbecause you think it’s for my benefit.” He says it like he’s trying to make me promise him.
“I feel guilty. It’s our first time, and you put in so much effort to make tonight special.” I sniffle and wince when the next breath I take is too deep.
His expression softens as he brushes away the strands sticking to my face. “Look me in the eye and tell me you won’t feel guilty the next time you might have to put a stop to sex.”
I shake my head. I feel exposed and pathetic lying naked on my back, too much of a wimp to move.
“I don’t want to ruin the mood or make you suffer because of me.”
“You owe me nothing—most definitely not your pain.” He presses a kiss to my temple and pries my fingers away from the sheets, bringing my hand up to brush his lips along my knuckles. For some reason that makes me cry harder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it’d be too much.”
“Don’t apologize. I don’t even know what the rules and parameters are.” I whimper at another sharp spasm. “Sometimes it doesn’t hurt at all, s-sometimes it does out of nowhere, and sometimes, the smallest thing sets it off.”
He frowns, grabbing a blanket to cover us. “Are you getting booked for surgery?”
I’d scoff if it didn’t hurt too much. “My insurance is calling it elective.”
That was after everyone told me the pain I’m feeling is normal and in my head. That it’s just IBS.
Having a heavy flow two weeks out of my cycle is notnormal. It is not something I’ll justgrow out of. Having an ex who broke up with me because I kept on having to cut sex short isn’t a right of fucking passage.
“It’s okay. I’m managing alright.” I’m not dying. I’m not getting worse. I haven’t exactly been inconveniencing anyone with it since I’ve been single for so many years.
“Just because you can still function while in pain, doesn’t mean you should.”
I shrug, swiping away the tears. That seems to be the story of my life.
“I’ll be okay,” I whisper.
Leo’s look of disapproval doesn’t sit right with me. “If I get you your pain meds, will you take them?”
I nod. I just want to roll over, sleep, and pretend this never happened.
He gets up, careful not to move the bed or me. He’s still frowning, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s pissed off, disappointed, or just deep in thought. My chest twists when he turns away from me to tug on his briefs. Then he pauses while grabbing the door handle.
“Stop killing yourself for other people, Mina.”
With that, he shuts the door behind him, and I shuffle onto my side, grateful that the pain is what I wanted: a distraction.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Leo: Turn the skull around, Mina.
Mina: No. I’m getting changed.
