Chapter 45
Elara POV
I scrambled to my feet, gripping the sink for balance as I stumbled toward the mirror, My reflection was a mess, hair wiki, face flushed and blotchy. I groaned.
My hands were trembling, cramps pulsing sharply through my stomach, but I forced myself to focus. I grabbed a wet towel and started wiping away the blood, flinching as another wave of pain hit me. When the towel turned red. I tossed it aside and stepped into the shower
The warm water helped a little, Just enough to make me feel hamuan again.
After drying off, I wrapped myself in a white towel and stepped out of the bathroom. The ache hadn’t let up. If anything, it felt worse. I didn’t know what, was taking Dante so long
I spotted his shirt lying nearby and pulled it over my head. The familiar scent of him–something warm, musky, grounding, wrapped around me like a second skin. It helped. More than I wanted to admit.
I sat down on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, and leaned back against the wall.
Waiting for my husband to come home.
Author pov
The neon sign of the 24–hour corner store buzzed faintly as Dante kicked the door open with a scarred face and eyes like a storm cloud. He entered the store as if he was about to crack a multi–billion–dollar deal.
The store was a feminine haven, its soft lighting casting a warm glow on walls adorned with floral decals. Shelves brimmed with pastel–packaged products, lace–trimmed undergarments. Three women shopped quietly a young mother juggling a toddler, a teenage girl texting furiously. They stood frozen as they noticed him, their eyes tracing the outline of his muscular frame
At the counter stood a petite clerk, her glasses slipping down her nose as she looked up at him, her breath catching slightly. “G–good evening, sir. How can I assist you?” she stammered, her fingers fidgeting with a pen
Ignoring the clerk, he went toward the feminine hygiene aisle, staring at a wall of pastel–colored boxes and bogs. Pads. He has never seen what a pad
looks like.
He read words like “wings” “flow” “cotton,” and “night“, none of it made sense. His jaw tightened.
He grabbed a fistful of packages off the shelf, pink ones, blue ones, green ones, some with flowers, some with numbers he didn’t bother to read and tossed them into a basket he’d snatched from the aisle’s end. But that wasn’t enough. His wife deserved more than a handful of whatever this shit
was
“Oi,” he barked, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. The clerk jolted, nearly dropping his phone. “Get over here.”
The kid, barely twenty, acne–scarred and shaking, scurried over. “Y–yes, sir?”
“Everything.” Dante said, nodding at the shelves. “All the pads. Every damn one.”
The clerk’s mouth opened, then shut. “Uh all of them?”
“You deal?” Dante’s glare could’ve melted steel “Bag it. Now”
The clerk didn’t argue. He started yanking every pack off the shelves, dozens, maybe hundreds, a rainbow of plastic and cardboard piling up. Dante watched, arms crossed, his expression was cold like stone. When the kid hesitated near the tampons, Dante snapped. “Those too. Whatever they are, she’s getting ‘em.”
Quce the boy was done he nodded. “Good. Now, the pain relief?”
“It’s in A–Aisle two,” he replied, guiding him past the gawking teenage girl, who whispered to herself, “Is he really buying that?”
Dante selected a boule of ibuprofen, like he was choosing a weapon. “She gets cramps,” he said, more to himself than the clerk, a flicker of concern crossing his stern features.
Finally, they reached the checkout, where a display of chocolates beckoned. He picked all the chocolate bars of premium dark chocolate, milk chocolate and many more.
As the clerk rang up his items, an elderly woman approached, her eyes twinkling. “Young man, it’s rare to see a husband so devoted. Your wife is lucky”
1/2
Chapter 45
Dante’s lips curved into a smirk. – I’m the lucky one,”
Ten minutes later, Dante strade out with six overstuffed bags slung over his shoulders, each one heavier than a brick of cocame. The clerk had rung ujra total flur would’ve fed a small gang for a month, thousands of dollars in parks, tampons, and a few randum candy bars.
Dante opened the door of his room with a kick as his hand was already filled, making Elara, who was sitting on the ground with his oversized shirt,
“What the fuck are you doing on the ground?” He frowned at her
*You scared me” Elara said, placing her hand on her chest. The bed or couch would be stained.” She said, rolling her
Dante dumped the bags onto the marble floor of the room. She looked at the things, then at him, then froze.
stood up
“What the hell is thon?” she asked, her voice slurp with disbelief.
Dante kicked one of the bags closer to her. “You said pads.”
Elara looked into the nearest bag. Her eyes widened as she pulled out pack after pack–every brand, every size, every type imaginable. Thin ones, thick ones, ones with wings, ones without, tampons she hadn’t asked for, even a king–sized Snickers bar tumbling out last. She looked at the other hive bags, then back at him, her mouth twitching like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or yell
“You bought… all this?” Her voice climbed an octave.” Dante, I just needed a pack. One pack
He shrugged, his face a wall of indifference. “You didn’t say what kind. Figured you’d pick.”
Elara stared at him, then at the mountain of supplies spilling across the door. Hundreds of pads are enough for a lifetime, maybe two. Her fingers brushed a pack of ultra–thins, then dropped it like it burned. “You don’t even know what these are for, do you?”
“Don’t need to,” he said, voice flat. “You asked. I got it
She opened her mouth, then closed it, a strange light flickering in her eyes. Then she laughed. It was soft, almost a whisper, but it hit him like a bullet. He glanced at her. She was shaking her head, a hand over her mouth, staring at the chaos he’d brought home.
“God. Mr Romano,” she muttered, but there was something warm in it, something that made her cheeks flush
“I will be back in a minute”
Elara took one of the packs and went inside the bathroom. Her heart thudding faster than it should’ve. His action was enough to make her stomach twist with a flutter she couldn’t name.
Ө
