Page 42 of Protector

Puck

Sleeping with Puck was the greatest but also the scariest night of my life. I hadn’t anticipated the extreme levels of love and safety it would bring me. So much so that I’m terrified every time we do it again, it could be our last.

It’s almost too good to be true.

I know that sounds silly, but a few weeks have passed, and we’ve been happy just being Puck and Bonnie again. It was our little secret. We didn’t tell anyone else, and when it’s just us cuddling in the quiet house in the black of night, I still get that fuzzy feeling in my stomach.

And though it’s only happened a couple of times since, we’re just taking each day as it comes.

After all, we have our whole lives, right?

At least, I thought so.

Four weeks have passed since that wonderful night in the same way every week passes. With love, laughter, and only the best time with my boys.

King has been glued to his phone, but he has this smile on his face that I’ve never really seen before so I don’t mind.

Dax is as happy as ever, just content to be living with his best friends, his family.

And me and Puck are as strong as ever.

But around four weeks later, when I’m sitting on the toilet, my eyes catch the box of sanitary towels on the shelf next to the sink and my stomach drops. When the hell was my last period?

I jump off the toilet, barely washing my hands, and run to the calendar on the wall. I try to count back the weeks, forcing my brain to have some recollection of when it was, but I can’t focus or remember.

When the hell was it?

I use my finger to count back, desperately trying to recollect what I did on each day to remember if I was on my period or not, but there’s nothing, not for a good few weeks.

Oh God.

Why have I missed a period?

I’m not stupid. I know how sex works, but we used a condom. A condom is supposed to prevent this. We did everything right.

There’s no way I could be pregnant. Right?

My breathing picks up, and I’m almost panting as I start to hyperventilate, struggling to catch a breath. I curl up into a ball and rock back and forth. Tears spring to my eyes, and I squeeze them shut, desperate to recall my last period.

It must’ve been last week, and I’ve just forgotten.

Yes, that’s right.

But it doesn’t matter how many times I try to convince myself; I know it’s not true.

What is happening? This kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen. At least not to me.

We were so careful. We did everything right.

“Bonnie?” Maria’s concerned voice calls from my open doorway, and it only makes me sob harder.

I try to bury myself into my knees, desperately hoping that if I can’t see her, she won’t see me.

“Bonnie, what’s happened?” Maria asks, more demanding this time as she rushes forward, closing the door behind her and scooping me into her arms.

“We, we were careful,” I sob, my tears soaking into her shirt. “We were. We did it all right.”

“Bonnie?”

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