UNBROKEN PROMISE

~14~ The remedy

Oma's POV

I woke up with a familiar ache in my belly, a dull pressure that had been building for days. I winced, clutching my stomach as I sat up in bed. It wasn't anything new-I hadn't been able to go since I got here, and the pain was starting to get worse. Every morning it seemed to tighten like a knot, and today it felt like it might burst.

I didn't want Logan to know. No, I'd never overcome the shame and mortification, and I wasn't in the mood for all that. So, I quietly slipped out of bed, trying my best to move without making too much noise, and hurried down the stairs to the toilet.

The house was quiet, the early morning light barely starting to creep through the windows. I tiptoed down the hallway, relieved to see Logan hadn't woken up yet. I hoped I'd have enough time to do my business and get back to making breakfast before he came downstairs.

Once inside the small toilet, I sat down and waited. Nothing. I sighed in frustration, leaning forward, clutching my stomach as the dull ache pulsed through me. It had been five days, maybe six since I'd had a proper bowel movement, and it was getting to the point where I wasn't sure what to do. The food here was different-heavier than I was used to-and it was taking its toll.

Minutes passed, and still nothing. My legs were starting to go numb from sitting too long, so I finally gave up. There wasn't any use forcing it. I washed my hands and splashed some cool water on my face, hoping it would help calm me down. But the ache didn't go away, it just simmered under the surface.

By the time I walked back into the kitchen, Logan was already awake. I froze for a second, but then smiled when I saw him sitting at the table, completely unaware of my little ordeal. His face was hidden behind the newspaper I'd left out for him the night before, and his cup of coffee was steaming in front of him.

"Mornin' Oma," he said in his usual slow, thick drawl, peeking over the edge of the paper. "Didn't think I'd see ya up this early."

"Morning," I replied, trying to sound casual, as if nothing was wrong. I busied myself with breakfast, moving around the kitchen in a practiced routine. I'd been cooking for Logan for a while now, and I liked to think I was getting the hang of it.

I cracked some eggs into a bowl, whisking them up for a quick scramble, while some bacon sizzled in the pan. The smell filled the kitchen, and for a moment, I almost forgot about the ache in my stomach. Almost.

As I cooked, I could feel Logan watching me, his eyes darting from the newspaper to my movements. He was the type to notice things, especially when something was off, but thankfully, he didn't say anything. Not yet, at least. I placed a plate of food in front of him, and he nodded his thanks, taking a bite as I sat down across from him with my own plate.

We ate in comfortable silence, the sound of forks scraping against plates filling the room. I wasn't that hungry, though. I knew I needed to eat, but the thought of more food just made my stomach churn. I picked at the eggs, pushing them around the plate, hoping Logan wouldn't notice.

After a while, I finally spoke up. "I'm gonna head to the main house today," I said, glancing up at him.

Logan looked at me over his cup of coffee, his brow lifting slightly. "Main house, huh? Whatcha goin' there for?"

"I just... I wanted to see Mama Becca," I replied, trying to keep my tone light. "Maybe help out a bit."

He nodded, chewing thoughtfully. "Alright then," he said. "You go on ahead. But don't be causin' no trouble, y'hear? And stay close to Mama Becca. Don't need any of the workers stirrin' up any gossip."

I smiled, grateful that he wasn't asking too many questions. "I won't," I promised, standing up to clear the table. "I'll be back by lunchtime."

Logan waved me off, picking up his newspaper again. "Take yer time. I'll be here."