Chapter 86

Cecilia

After a month of staying at home to recover, I felt like I was turning into a potato.

And this morning was absolutely terrible.

I shifted experimentally, and—oh god. Oh no.

The telltale cramping low in my abdomen, the slight dampness I really didn't want to acknowledge, the timing that was both predictable and utterly inconvenient.

Of course. Of fucking course.

I carefully extracted myself from Arthur's embrace, trying not to wake him as I slipped out of bed. He made a small sound of protest in his sleep, his hand reaching for me even as I moved away, but he didn't wake.

The bathroom light was harsh against my eyes as I flipped the switch and confirmed what I already knew.

I cleaned up quickly, grateful that I'd at least made it to the bathroom before things got messy, and dealt with the situation with the practiced efficiency of someone who'd been doing this for years.

When I came back to the bedroom, Arthur was awake.

He was propped up on one elbow, his hair adorably mussed, his eyes tracking my movements with that particular focus.

"Ceci, it's a holiday today." Arthur looked at me eagerly.

"Yeah." I settled against the pillows, trying to ignore the cramping that was already starting to make itself known. "But, um. I have plans today. With Alice. We're going shopping."

Arthur's expression shifted into something I recognized immediately—that particular blend of displeasure and resignation that meant he didn't like what I was saying but was trying to be reasonable about it.

"Shopping," he repeated.

"Yeah. Just, you know, girl time. Looking at clothes, maybe getting lunch." I paused. "I've been cooped up for almost a month now, Arthur. The doctor cleared me for normal activities last week. I'm fine."

"I know you're fine." His hand found mine on the blanket. "I just—"

"You just don't want me to go," I finished for him.

He had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "Is it that obvious?"

"Extremely." I shifted closer, batting my eyelashes in a way that I knew was completely transparent but couldn't help doing anyway. "But I really want to go, Arthur. I've been stuck in this apartment for weeks, and I miss Alice, and I promise I'll be careful and I won't overdo it and—"

"Cecilia." His voice had dropped an octave, and when I looked up at him, his eyes had gone dark in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. "You're not playing fair."

"I don't know what you mean," I said innocently, even as I deliberately pressed closer, my good hand coming up to rest on his chest. "I'm just asking my fiancé if I can go shopping with my best friend."

"You're doing that thing," he said, his voice strained.

"What thing?"

"That thing where you look at me like that and touch me like that and make it very difficult for me to think clearly."

I smiled up at him, deliberately slow and sweet. "Is it working?"

"You know it is." His hand slid up my arm, his touch sending shivers across my skin despite the cramping in my abdomen. "You also know that I have the whole day off today. A whole day where I could keep you very, very busy."

Heat flooded through me, and I felt my face flush. "Arthur—"

"A whole day," he continued, his mouth moving to my ear, "where I could make up for all those nights I had to be careful because of your injuries. Where I could finally—"

"I'm on my period," I blurted out, pushing him away before I forgot why that was a problem.

He stopped, blinking at me like I'd just spoken a foreign language. "What?"

"My period. I'm on my period. That's why I got up this morning." I gestured vaguely at my lower abdomen. "So all those plans you're making? Not happening. Not for at least a few days."

Arthur stared at me for a long moment. Then he flopped back onto the bed with a groan that was so exaggerated I couldn't help but laugh.

"This is a conspiracy," he said to the ceiling. "The universe is conspiring against me."

"It's just biology, Arthur."

"It's a conspiracy." He turned his head to look at me, and the expression on his face was so genuinely disappointed that I felt a pang of sympathy despite my amusement. "I had plans, Cecilia. Very detailed plans."

"I'm sure you did."

"Plans that involved—" He stopped himself, seeming to realize that continuing that sentence wasn't going to help his case. "Never mind."

I reached over and ran my fingers through his hair, and he leaned into the touch like a cat seeking affection. "I'm sorry your plans got derailed."

"It's not your fault." He caught my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm. "But I'm allowed to be disappointed."

"You are." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "But, you know, once it's over..."

His eyes sharpened immediately. "Once it's over?"

"Once it's over," I said, feeling my face heat again, "you can do whatever you want. All those plans you made? We can do them then."

"Whatever I want," he repeated slowly, like he was testing the words.

"Within reason," I added quickly.

"Define 'within reason.'"

"Arthur."

"I'm just clarifying the parameters." But he was smiling now, that slow, dangerous smile that always made my stomach flip. "So I have your permission to—"

"Yes," I interrupted, because if he started listing specifics I was going to combust right here in this bed. "Yes, you have my permission. Now can we please talk about something else?"

"Fine." He pulled me back against his chest, his arms wrapping around me. "But I'm holding you to that."

"I know you are."

We lay there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and I felt myself starting to relax despite the cramping.

Then Arthur spoke again, his voice taking on that particular quality.

"So you're really going shopping today."

"I really am."

"But you’re clearly not feeling well right now."

"It’s fine, the pain will fade soon. Besides, I already made plans with Alice."

"And you're abandoning me to spend the whole day with her."

I pulled back to look at him. "I'm not abandoning you, you dramatic—"

"I'm being abandoned," he said, his expression so perfectly pitiful that I would have believed him if I didn't know better. "Cast aside for shopping and girl talk. Replaced by your best friend."

"I'm wounded." He pressed a hand to his chest. "My fiancée would rather spend time with someone else than with me."

"Your fiancée," I corrected, "wants to spend time with her best friend for one day after being stuck in an apartment for a month. That's not abandonment, that's normal human behavior."

"A normal person would stay home and keep their devoted fiancé company on his day off." Arthur put on a pitiful look.

“A good fiancé can stay home and rest by himself.” I said, feeling rather clever.

“Oh, Ceci, I hate to see you leave.” Arthur put on a show.

I couldn't help it—I laughed.

"What?" he demanded.

"You!" I managed between giggles. "You're being so—oh my god, Arthur, you're actually pouting."

"What?"

"You're pouting." I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to contain the laughter. "This is the best thing I've seen all week."

He couldn’t keep up the act any longer, pulling me into a hearty laugh. Finally he kissed my ear and whispered, “Have fun.”