Bed of Nails

Chapter 90

It hurt even more than my periods.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me to him and starting to make soothing circles on my back. More tears slid down my eyes when I felt my tense body relax under his touch. I sobbed, and heavy breaths fell out of my mouth.

"Shhh,” he said while pressing me more against his bare chest. I buried my face in my bare chest. His hand didn't stop making circles on my back. He kept holding me like that until tears stopped running down from my eyes and my breath evened. 

“I'm here,” he said, burying his face in my neck and pressing a kiss on the column of my neck. My sobs had died down, but I kept sniffing in between. He made me lie down on the bed. He got out of bed for a few minutes. I opened and closed my eyes, still taking deep breaths to let that pain subside. I was in so much pain to see what he was doing. He got on the bed and inside the cover. I kept my eyes closed. After some time, there was a knock on the door, and it made me open my eyes. He moved, and it made me look at him. 

“I will be back in a minute,” he said when he found me looking at him. He got out of bed, but not before pressing a kiss on his forehead. I don't know why I felt warmth inside me. I didn't respond, and he didn't expect it. He came back with a peck of sanitary pads. I need to wear one before I get blood stains on the bed sheet. I tried to get up but again felt a sharp pain in my stomach and back. Even if I move slightly, the dulled-down pain comes back. He removed the covers and carried me to the bathroom. No power was left inside me to protest because I needed his help. He made me sit on the toilet seat. 

“Do you want me to help you?” he asked me with so much concern in his voice. My face turned red when he asked me that. I wanted to say I hated this site because it reminds me of the old Erick, with whom I fell in love. But I couldn't. This Erick was mean, and I hated him. Why was he acting so concerned about me? Our hate is mutual. 

“Doll,” he said when I didn't answer him the first time. I moved my head in slow motion. He kept the packet on the counter beside me. 

“Call me if you need help. I'm outside,” he said before walking out of the bathroom. It took me some time to change it. I washed my hands and slowly walked out of the room, and to my surprise, he said, He was standing outside, waiting for me. He immediately turned when he heard the cracking of the door. Without a word, he carried me back to bed. I just wrapped my arms around his neck. He gently put me to bed. Then he grabbed the heating bag. I don't know when he got it. 

“It will help you with cramps,” he said, putting the bag on my stomach under the covers. I let him do it. I was feeling so exhausted that I could not even lift my fingers. This cramp makes my whole body go numb. It drains me of all my energy. His other hand moved into my head, massaging my scalp. He was being so gentle with me. I had almost forgotten how it feels to be treated with care. Everything felt like a dream. I don't even remember when he was so gentle with me last time. My eyes closed, and I slowly started to drift into sleep. But they opened up again when I once again felt a sharp, needling sensation. I took a deep breath to control my sobs. 

“It will get better,” he whispered in my hair and pressed his lips on my crown. Instead of a hot bag, his hand was making soothing circles on my stomach. I don't know why it felt like his hand was helping me more than the hot bag. Slowly, I started to feel better. I was surprised to see him still awake. I thought he would have been sleeping, but he straddled up as soon as I opened my eyes. My stomach grumbled, and I knew he heard it. I'm sure he felt it too, because his hand was still making soothing circles on my belly. My face turned red. I wanted to turn to the other side and hide my face, but I knew if I changed my position, the pain would come back. I stayed still with my red face. He turned around and picked up the intercom. I closed my eyes in embarrassment. 

“Make macaroni cheese,'' he said on the intercom, making me look at him in disbelief. How did he know I was craving it? I looked away when he looked at me. He caught me looking at him. I blinked my eyes. My face was still red. His hand never stops making soothing circles on my aching stomach. I was making a fuss about him touching me without my concern a few minutes ago, and now I was making no effort to slap his hand away from me. A maid arrived with a tray at the door after fifteen minutes. He took it and then closed the door. He placed it in front of me and then helped me sit up. Before I could take the spoon, he took it. 

“I will eat it on my own,” I said, not wanting him to help me more. I was feeling much better now, even though I was still feeling exhausted. He didn't let me do it. 

“Open your mouth,” he said with a spoonful of macaroni hovering in front of my mouth. As if he has ever listened to me. I exhaled, not having enough power to fight with him. I opened my mouth, and he fed me. It melted in my mouth. He wiped the corner of my lips with his thumb. He kept looking down at me. I cleared my throat and looked away. 

"No," I said, only after a few bites. I didn't feel like eating it anymore. 

“One more bite. You had not eaten much at dinner,” he said, feeding me more. My heart thumped when he said that. I swallowed the morsel. I drank the water with my own hands. He took everything away and then again pulled me to his bare chest. He pressed a kiss on my lips while his hand once again slipped inside my t-shirt to make soothing circles on my stomach. 

"Sleep,” he whispered over my lips. Then he moved his face and pressed his lips on my forehead. 

I never imagined this night would take such a turn.

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