Chapter 5

The morning light streamed through the cracked window, casting dusty beams on the walls of the cabin. I woke up with the uncomfortable feeling of something being off, the kind you can’t quite place but know your body is trying to tell you. I tried to shake off the grogginess, but a dull ache in my lower abdomen made it impossible to ignore.

I sat up, wincing slightly, and realized with a sinking feeling that my period had arrived without any warning. No supplies. Not a single tampon, pad, or anything that could handle this emergency.

I pulled on a pair of jeans and tugged a hoodie over my head. I needed a solution, fast. The garage. Marge. She would know where the hell I could find something to deal with this.

I walked across the gravel lot behind the garage, the cold morning air nipping at my face. The metal tools in the shop had a comforting hum to them, a reminder that this place although broken and chaotic was somehow functional.

I pushed through the door of the shop, the familiar scent of grease and motor oil filling the air. Marge was leaning against the counter, sorting through some papers. I cleared my throat.

“Marge, uh... I don’t suppose you have any...” I felt my cheeks redden. “I mean, do you have any, uh... period care? Pads or tampons?”

Marge’s eyes flicked up from the papers, and she gave me a slow, knowing smile. She didn’t look embarrassed. Not even close.

“Sweetheart, I hit menopause a long time ago,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “But I’m sure I’ve got something lying around here somewhere.”

She stood up, walked over to a cabinet near the back, and pulled open a drawer. There was a small clink of metal and a rustling of old boxes. Marge was like a walking, talking fix-it machine, always able to find something in the chaos of this place.

Just then, the door opened, and Rafe walked in. He gave me a nod, his hands already busy with some task at the workbench. I wasn’t sure if he had seen me yet, but his quiet presence made me feel like I was interrupting something.

“Morning,” Rafe greeted, his voice deep, but not unfriendly.

“Morning,” I muttered, trying to hide my discomfort.

Marge didn’t miss a beat. She fished out a single pad from a box tucked behind an old towel and tossed it onto the counter in front of me.

“That’s all I’ve got, sweetheart,” she said, not skipping a beat. “You’ll need to head into town later for some proper supplies.”

I nodded, swallowing my embarrassment.

Marge looked at me, then at Rafe, and gave a small smile.

“You know,” she said, leaning back against the counter, “Rafe's got a truck. You should ask him to take you to town later this afternoon. Wouldn’t be right for you to be stuck out here without what you need.”

I froze.

The idea of asking Rafe of all people, to be my transportation to buy something so personal and uncomfortable... It was mortifying. My face burned, and I could feel my heart rate increase.

Marge, noticing the change in my expression, didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, honey, don’t you worry about it. None of these hard-looking men would be here if their mama didn’t bleed monthly, you know.”

His brows twitched in amusement, but he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, sure,” I managed, feeling like I’d shrunk a few sizes. “I’ll... ask him.”

Marge, satisfied with the discomfort she’d caused, patted me on the shoulder as she headed back to the back office.

I stood there for a second, looking at the pad and feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life. But I wasn’t about to turn down help, even if it came with a side of embarrassment.

“You heading to town later?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, like it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing in the world to even ask.

He nodded without hesitation. “I’ll be going in the afternoon. Could use a break from this place.”

“That’s fine by me,” I said quickly. “I’ll go with you.”

The words left my mouth before I even realized what I’d said. Maybe it was just easier than sitting alone in the cabin all afternoon. Or maybe it was the sheer awkwardness of needing something, but not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it.

Rafe didn’t argue, just gave a small, unreadable nod and went back to his work.

I turned to leave, pulling the door open with a little more force than necessary. But as I stepped outside, my gaze caught Jax leaning against the far wall of the garage, watching me.

Our eyes met.

Neither of us said a word. Not a nod, not a glance, nothing to break the silence.

Just a stare. Heavy. Like a question hanging in the air that neither of us were willing to ask.

_____

I lay on the bed a little while longer, curled under the covers as the cramps began to creep in. My stomach ached, and the thought of moving to get something to eat felt like an impossible task.

I couldn’t do it. Not today.

I missed him.

If my father had been here, he'd know exactly what to do. He’d be making me some tea, the kind with a dash of honey, the kind that always worked its way into your bones and eased the pain. He’d set a bowl of crackers beside me, telling me to “just rest” like it was the easiest thing in the world.

It wouldn’t matter that I was too old for his little acts of care. When he was around, I was always his little girl. And it felt like, now, that was all gone.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d relied on him until he wasn’t there.

So I let the tears come, quiet and soft, before I wiped my eyes, not wanting to acknowledge the weakness in myself.

And then, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting a slanted light across the cabin. My body felt sluggish, like I’d been knocked out cold for longer than I’d meant to. I checked the time on my phone, blinking at the late hour.

I had missed my chance to go to town with Rafe.

I felt a pang of disappointment more at myself than anything else but then I heard the unmistakable sound of someone on the porch.

Curious, I swung my legs off the bed, the sudden movement making my head spin for a second. But as I made my way to the door, something caught my eye.

There, resting just outside my room, was a box.

It wasn’t huge. Just a small, square package. But it was unexpected, and that made it stand out in the quiet afternoon.

I froze, staring at it for a second, unsure of what to think. My heart picked up a little, wondering if it was some sort of mistake, or if someone had dropped something off for me. But there was no card, no note.

I bent down to pick it up, carefully lifting the box from the porch, its weight unfamiliar in my hands.

For a long moment, I just held it there, contemplating.

Who left this? What was inside?