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“Okay. What did she have in her hand this morning?” I mutter to myself while scouring the aisle of feminine products, feeling instantly overwhelmed. This is how Jeffrey must have felt when he bought all this shit, and now I feel bad for giving him a hard time.

How does a woman make a decision? And what’s with all of the different sizes and brands. Isn’t a tampon just a tampon? And a vagina a vagina? Are there super vaginas and light vaginas? Is that a thing? I’m so fucking confused.

The woman working at Target must have taken sympathy on me because she walks over from the shelf she was restocking and places her hand on my shoulder. “You look lost.”

I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, a little bit.”

“Who are you shopping for?”

“My girlfriend,” I say without hesitation because the more I use that word, the more I like the way it sounds.

“Aw. Okay, well does she use tampons or pads?”

“Both, I think?” I vaguely remember Charlotte saying something about a pad this morning before she ran out of my apartment.

“She didn’t tell you what to buy?”

“She doesn’t know I’m here. I was trying to surprise her.”

Her smile builds. “Alright. And how old is she?”

“Thirty.”

“Is this the first day of her period, or is she toward the end?”

“She started this morning. I’m trying to surprise her and bring her the things she needs since this is all new territory for me, but staring at these shelves? Well, it’s just a reminder that I’m way outside of my comfort zone here.”

She nods through her laugh. “Any man is when it comes to this. Bless your heart for trying to help. That means more than anything you bring her.” She reaches for a box of tampons and a package of pads. “I recommend these, but honestly, it doesn’t matter what you bring her supply-wise. I would think of the things that make her happy and comfortable because that will mean more to her than these.” She places the items in the basket I’m carrying in my hands.

“What do you need when it’s your time of the month, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, it’s been years since I’ve had to deal with this issue, but a woman never forgets what it’s like. I always liked chocolate, potato chips, and watching a good romantic comedy, while I had my heating pad on my stomach.”

I stare at her, shocked. “Forgive me, but you look far too young to have gone through menopause.”

“You’re right. I didn’t. I had a partial hysterectomy when I was thirty-seven because I had endometriosis. It would get so bad that my periods sometimes put me in the hospital.”

“Wow,” I say as my heart pounds violently. “Seriously?”

She nods. “Yup. There are a lot of women who live with it but never get any relief. Mine was bad, so my doctor took my uterus.” And then she starts laughing nervously. “Oh dear, I’m sorry. I’m giving you a lot of information about me right now that you probably could have lived without knowing.” She turns away from me, pink tinting her cheeks.

“No, I asked. And I don’t mind. I actually find it fascinating.” I can’t believe women have to deal with this stuff, even to the point of needing surgery. “It’s just a period. Men need to get over it, huh?”

“Your girlfriend is lucky to have you,” she says through a laugh, squeezing my bicep while smiling up at me.

“Well, that’s still to be determined,” I mutter. “So, tell me again what you think I should buy for her besides the necessities, of course. I need to make her feel better and I’m not sure how.”

Her smile stretches wide. “I’ve got you, boy. Follow me.”

* * *

“Damien?” Charlotte says through the speaker outside of her building.

“Hey, Char. Let me up.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I brought you a few things, and I just want to check on you...” Silence fills the line, and for a moment I wonder if she’ll turn me away. I know she was upset when she left my apartment earlier, but I don’t want to leave things like this—not after the week we had together.

Since our date last Friday, we’ve spent every other night together having dinner and sex, but last night I insisted she stay the night at my place. If I hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been so embarrassed when her period came in the middle of the night—which I didn’t even know could happen. Apparently, I have a lot to learn when it comes to what women manage in that aspect of their lives, and I hope Charlotte can give me some more insight. That was one of the goals of this agreement in the first place.

The buzzer signals that she’s letting me in, so with my hands full of bags, I reach for the door and then head for the elevator up to her place.

I softly knock on the door and wait for her to answer, and when she does, my heart slows at the sight. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail, she’s wearing baggy black sweats that look incredibly comfortable, and a dark gray spaghetti strap tank top. But her face is sullen, laced with pain and exhaustion that I’ve never seen on her before.

“Hey, babe.”

“Damien,” she says as she squints in my direction while crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought supplies,” I say proudly while holding up the bags in my hands.

“Supplies?”

“Yup. Period supplies.” Walking through her door, I head straight to her kitchen and place the bags on the counter.

“Damien, I have stuff. You didn’t need to do this,” she says as she follows me.

I look back at her over my shoulder. “I know I didn’t need to, but I wanted to…okay?”

Her face instantly softens and then I see moisture building in her eyes. “I can’t believe you did this after this morning.”

Abandoning my bags that I was ridiculously excited to open for her, I close the distance between us and pull her into my chest. A sigh of relief escapes my lips when she wraps her arms around my waist. “I told you, it’s not a big deal.”

“I appreciate you saying that, but still, I was mortified. I was sure you would want some space from me.”

“What?” I tip her chin up so I can stare down into her eyes. “Why on earth would you think that? You got your period, Charlotte. There’s nothing about that that would make me want to stop seeing you.”

She laughs through a few tears. “I know it sounds silly, but I mean, I’m a thirty-year-old woman. It’s been years since I started in the middle of the night. That happened more when I was younger, but then it happened with you, and...”

“Honestly, my mind didn’t even drift toward your period. The moment I saw the blood, I thought there was something seriously wrong, not to minimize your period, that is.” I raise my hand in the air in a fist. “Girl power and all that.”

Shaking her head at me, she presses up on her tiptoes and then plants a kiss on my lips. “Thank you for making me laugh. So what did you bring me?”

The rush of pride I felt when I got here returns as I take her by the hand back over to the bags. “Well, let me paint you a picture. I was standing in the aisle at Target where all of the tampons are, debating on what to purchase,” I explain as I wave my hand across the air. “And thankfully, one of the employees took pity on me and came over to help me. But it was something she said to me that struck a chord.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said that managing your period doesn’t have to do so much with the products you use. It’s all of the other things you need to help make it bearable.” I reach into the bags and start pulling out items. “For instance, your favorite meal or something you’ve been craving,” I say as I pull out a fresh plate of spaghetti and meatballs and the antipasto salad from Tony’s that I know she loves. “And of course, you need chocolate,” I continue as I pull out a package of Dove Chocolates and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Double Fudge Brownie. “Then she also suggested salt, so I grabbed these.” I place the bag of Lay’s Classic potato chips on the counter. “And ibuprofen and heat patches to help with cramps.” Holding up the bottle proudly and the box of patches, I watch Charlotte’s face for any reaction.

“You got me all of this?”

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