Page 64 of On a Fault Line

I pull up the comforter that has slid down during sleep and sandwich myself inside, luxuriating over the simple pleasure that clean linens can bring.

Rolling over, I feel the little rush of liquid seeping from between my legs and panic at the thought of it being pee.

Oh, please no, please.

Looking down, I see the crimson stain.

No!

This is way worse.

“Penny, what’s wrong?” Collins asks, not understanding yet what I’ve done.

“I’m sorry.”

Well, that wakes him up fully.

His body is upright, as his hands search my body. I roll into a ball over the stain, shielding myself from the embarrassment that I’ll never live down, all while crossing my legs so no more leaks out.

If only this was a dream…

But life is rarely kind like that.

All this time I’ve been counting down days of our contract, hoping that I can somehow slow down time, but being careless with another important type of calendar.

Peeling me off the mattress in ball formation, Collins spotsthe spot.

“I will pay for dry cleaning or new sheets—whatever you want,” I mumble.

“Penelope, are you hurt?”

I peek up at him between my lashes, while I stay curled up on his lap. “Emotionally damaged? Yeah.”

Collins looks at me with such kindness that I can’t help but look away. “Sweet girl, did you start your period?”

“Yes.” My one-word affirmation can barely be heard even by my own ears.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

Gently prying my chin to face him, he coaxes me to give in to his wishes. “Look at me, Princess.”

Finally I do. Tears sting my eyes. “I am mortified.”

“I’m not sure what assholes you’ve surrounded yourself with in the past, but make no mistake… I am not someboythat gets all bent out of shape over something as natural as a woman bleeding during her cycle. So, Princess, my concern is not for some damn sheets but for how your body is coping with this time when you could be in physical pain.”

I wipe at the tears in my eyes that have morphed into ones of gratitude for a man I never saw as ever being mine. But I can’t stand the thought of him being anyone else’s. “I don’t deserve you.”

Bending down, he kisses me on the forehead, and it holds just as much intimacy in that one sweet gesture as a mouth kiss would during some of our passionate moments. “You deserve the world, Penelope Hoffman. And this world is a better place with you in it.”

I shake my head. “I’ve done nothing to contribute to society, Collins. I don’t have a college degree. I don’t put forth any volunteer efforts. I’m not running any charities. I’ve literally done nothing but find some way to force people to take care of me. It’s pathetic.”

“No, sweet girl. One day you will see what you do for others. And it isn’t as insignificant as you think. What you provide is plain magic.”

Collins scoops me up, just like he always has, and walks with me into the bathroom. There isn’t a squeamish bone in his body as I probably bleed onto his arm, as I’ve already done his leg.

I still can’t believe I let this happen.

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