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Once he leaves, I get dressed and clean up the room. I gather my clothes from the floor and when I’m tossing them into the bathroom, I ignore the red all over the shower floor, grab a bunch of toilet paper to get the tampon and throw it away.
Enzo doesn’t knock when he comes back in. He steps inside, makes sure I’m ready, and opens it all the way for the doctor to come in.
He’s an old man. Somewhere in his seventies, if I had to guess. Horseshoe white hair, thick black-framed glasses, and a brown suit that looks like it’s from the 70s. He carries a black leather bag and a frown that seems permanent.
“All right, Miss Delise. Tell me what happened.”
I’m not surprised he knows my name. Bet he knows my entire history.
“I guess I passed out.” It isn’t hard to make the assumption about what happened. Enzo found me passed out. Called the doctor. Carried me in here.
“When was the last time you ate something?”
“I don’t know. Yesterday?”
He nods, opens his bag to pull out his stethoscope and puts the buds into his ears.
“When did your period start?”
“Also yesterday.”
“Is it usually so heavy?”
“Most months, yes.”
“You’ve fainted during your menstrual cycle before?”
“A few times, but mostly because I get awful cramps and so nauseous I don’t want to eat.”
“Do you take medication for it?”
“Nothing I’ve ever found helps.”
“A doctor hasn’t given you anything?”
I shake my head.
He nods, listening to my heart and lungs. He takes my temperature, checks my pulse, and asks a few more questions. Then he writes something on his prescription pad, tears it off, and instead of handing it to me, like he should, he gives it to Enzo, who hands it to whichever ass kisser is up his ass this hour.
I’ve seen this one around too, just not as often as the other one—Antoino. Who I hope is okay and doesn’t have permanent damage to his eyes. Kinda feel bad about that as I sit here, calm.
“I’ve written you a prescription for some pain meds that will help with the cramps and also medication to help with the nausea and increase your appetite. Only take them during this time of the month, as needed.”
“Thank you,” I mutter.
He shares a few quiet words with Enzo, and a few minutes later, the ass-kisser is leading him out the door.
Enzo stares at me for a long moment before moving in front of me. I don’t know how he isn’t freezing in those wet clothes with the air conditioner blasting. Even in my clothes I’m cold.
“We’re going to get something to eat while the room gets cleaned up, and it’s in your best interest to not argue with me about it.” He’s demanding me again, but at least his words are nicer.
“Considering this was the worst experience of my life, I’ll gladly get some food.” I move toward the door.
“The worst?” he questions, a hint of humor in his voice.
“Don’t start with me, Enzo. Women have gotten off for murdering someone during their period.”
He chuckles. “I’d like to see you try, angel.”
