Chapter 26
Joshua
I wake to the sound of smashing glass. I sit up in a rush and flick the lamp on. Natasha isn’t in bed and I immediately jump up and run out into the living room.
“Natasha,” I call in a panic.
“In here, baby, I’m okay,” she calls from the bathroom. Relief hits me, thank God. I go to the bathroom and find that she is anything but okay. She is on the floor on her knees throwing up and her hands are shaking heavily as she tries to hold herself up.
I drop to my knees next to her. “What’s the matter?” I ask as I brush her hair back from her perspiration-clad forehead. “Migraine,” she whispers. “Can you get me my phone, please?”
I nod and run from the room. I don’t know anything about migraines. “Where is it?” I call in a panic from the bedroom.
“In the closet in my handbag,” she replies.
I run into the closet and flick on the light as my eyes dart around the small space.
I’m getting her a new closet on Monday. This is ridiculous.
Shit, there are about ten hand- bags all hanging from a shelf.
“Which one?” I call but she doesn’t answer.
“Natasha, which bag?” She doesn’t answer again, and I sprint back to the bathroom to find her throwing up again.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
She continues to throw up violently and I run my hands nervously through my hair.
“Max,” she whispers.
I screw up my face. “Huh?”
“Call Max,” she groans.
My eyes widen as she throws up again, she’s going to die any minute. I sprint to the bedroom and grab my phone off the bedside and dial Max’s number.
“Hello,” he answers.
“Max, get up here, Natasha has a migraine and I don’t know what to do.”
“I will call her doctor,” he answers calmly.
“Do you have the number?” I snap.
“Yes, this happens a lot.”
My eyes widen in horror, a lot…what does that mean? “Okay.” I hang up.
I run back to the bathroom to find Natasha holding her head and crying as her hands shake violently. What the hell is going on? I fall to the floor next to her and cut my hand on a piece of broken glass on the floor. “Shit,” I snap.
“I broke a glass. I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Tash, you’re scaring me. What’s happening?” I pull her onto my lap and hold her head as she cries.
“The doctor will be here soon,” she sobs in a calming voice as if sensing my fear. What if she is having an aneurysm?
“It’s ok, I’m ok,” she whispers as she comforts me. “I’m ok, baby, go and unlock the door.”
I nod and ease her down onto the ground beside me and unlock the door. Max is waiting outside.
“Where is she?” he asks.
“In the bathroom,” I answer as I run back up the hall towards her.
Max goes to the kitchen and gets a large dish from the cupboard and goes and puts it in the bedroom before coming into the bathroom.
“You should put some clothes on.” He nods.
I look down at myself. Shit, I’m naked, I hadn’t even realized. I nod and head to the bedroom and throw on some clothes.
Max walks into the room carrying Natasha and he puts her into bed.
“It’s okay, honey, the doctor will be here soon, and he will give you a sedative and everything will be ok,” he says gently as he lays her down.
She nods as she holds her head and I stand still, riveted on the spot in shock. This has happened a lot, I can tell by Max’s calm reaction. Why in the hell do I not know about this?
A guard walks into the apartment with a doctor behind him. “In here,” I yell.
The middle-aged woman smiles and immediately opens her briefcase and starts to check Natasha and I stand still at the end of the bed.
“It’s been a while since you had one of these,” the doctor murmurs as she takes her blood pressure.
“Yes, five weeks,” Max replies.
I narrow my eyes at Max. “How often does this happen?” I ask.
He shrugs. “When she is stressed.”
Guilt fills my stomach, this is my fault. Max’s eyes dare me to say something and I feel anger rise in my stomach.
“You can go, Max,” I say flatly to him.
He rolls his lips as his eyes flick to Natasha. “I will stay with her if you need to go out,” he replies.
“That won’t be necessary. I will be staying and looking after her. Thank you.” I can’t hide my annoyance that he knows more about my girl than I do.
He nods and leaves the room.
I sit on the chair in the corner of the room and watch silently as the doctor checks her over.
“Natasha, dear, I am going to give you a sedative now. Do you want me to call someone to look after you?”
I stand. “I will be staying to care for her.”
Natasha holds out her shaky hand as she smiles weakly and I take it in mine. The doctor smiles at our interaction.
“This is a sedative that I am giving her. She will be out for around eighteen hours.”
I frown as I listen. “It’s ok, she has had this many times before. It is the only way we can get the migraine to stop. It’s quite common.”
I nod and watch the doctor give her an injection.
“Here is my card, call me if you need anything,” the doctor says and then she leaves us alone.
“Is your hand ok?” Natasha whispers.
A lump in my throat forms, here she is half dying and she is worried about a nick on my hand.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m ok,” I lie down next to her and put my cheek to hers.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Don’t be stupid, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry you have to stay here with me,” she whispers.
I bend and kiss her forehead.
“Josh, I need to go to the bathroom.”
I nod, help her up and lead her to the bathroom and wait silently while she goes.
“Is your head ok?” I ask as I brush her hair back.
“I’m ok, you know me, the ultimate drama queen. Nothing in halves,” she smiles, and I find myself returning her smile. I really do love this woman.
“Come on, back to bed.” I help her back up the hall and she changes clothes and slowly hops into bed. The clock reads 4.45 am. I lay next to her and hold her close as she drifts off into unconsciousness.
It’s 12 pm, Tash is fast asleep like an angel next to me in bed and I am on my laptop googling migraines and their treatment.
Apparently, she was having them every couple of weeks after her father died.
Not as bad as this though, according to Max.
The only time she had one this bad was when I came to her after we broke up and she turned me away.
That one went for four days and they sedated her twice in a row.
I needed sedating myself at that time. My eyes flick to the beautiful woman lying next to me.
I wish I could just get over this shit and forget the past. I just can’t…
I’m trying. I am so in love with her and it’s fucking with my head, scared to live with her, petrified to live without her.
I can’t stand this hold she has over me.
She rolls and I notice her pajamas are slightly soiled, what’s that?
My eyes widen. Shit, she has her period.
My eyes dart around the room in a panic.
I don’t know anything about this shit. Hang on, it’s early, it’s not due for another week, maybe she’s hemorrhaging.
I run to the lounge room to retrieve my phone and ring Cameron.
“Hey,” he answers.
“Cameron, you need to get over here immediately.
Natasha is unconscious and hemorrhaging.” “What the fuck?” he snaps.
“No, not like that. I mean she has a migraine and the doctor knocked her out and I am looking after her and now she is bleeding.”
“From where?” he snaps again.
I shake my head in frustration. “From you know where.” “Where?”
“Where girls bleed from.”
“Oh Jesus,” he groans. “She has her period, Stan, that’s all.”
“What do I do?” I shriek.
“She will have some stuff in her bathroom. All girls do, just follow the directions on the pack.”
My eyes widen as I walk to the bathroom and start rattling through her cupboards and drawers.
“What does it look like?” I ask Cameron.
“What does what look like?” he snaps.
“Whatever this girl shit is!”
He laughs down the phone. “You’re such a dumb fuck. Do you want me to come over and sort her out?”
My eyes widen in horror. “No, I do not. I can look after my girlfriend just fine thank you.” He is not laying a finger on her.
“Whatever.” He sighs. “Call me if you need help.”
He hangs up.
I rat through the cupboards and find one pad, no packet. Oh, this is just great.
I walk back to the closet with the pad and start looking for more things. Surely, she has more packets somewhere. I look through her handbags and find a few tampons. I hold one up to look at it and narrow my eyes…hmm. This is weird shit.
After cleaning Tash up, I go back to the closet to start searching for more packets.
How many will I need? Why isn’t she more organized?
This is so typical Natasha. In the bottom of her closet I find a couple of shoeboxes stacked on top of each other and I open the top one.
I frown. It’s full of books. Small leatherbound books.
I open one. It’s a diary. I rat through the other boxes, these are all diaries and she has kept every single one.
Twelve, there are twelve diaries here. My eyes widen at my find, but I have more pressing issues at the moment…
like where do I get more pads? I am going to have to go to the shop myself.
She wouldn’t want me to send my staff. Where do you even buy this stuff?
I take out my phone and call Cameron again.
“Hey,” he answers.
“Where do I get this stuff?” I ask in a rush.
“Huh, what stuff?”
“Girl’s stuff, you idiot, what do you think I mean?” He laughs.
“The pharmacy, fuckwit.”
I nod. “Hmm, makes sense. Right.” I hang up and call Max. “Max, I have to go out for ten minutes. Can you come and sit in the living room and watch Tash for me?”
“Yeah, sure. I will be right up.”