Love Consequences (Season 2 of Nata & Phillip's Romance)

1: We are fine

Phillip

Did she just say 'we need to talk'? That never leads to anything good. I reach to take her hand, but she puts it behind her and eyes the empty hallway suspiciously.

"Not here." The steel in her voice scares me further.

I reach for her hand again. "Follow me."

"Just go." She sounds angry. "I can walk on my own just fine."

What happened in that bathroom changed the almost giggling Nata who ran up the stairs with me into this version. "Are you okay?" I lower my head to catch her eye.

Nata purposefully stares at her feet. "Go." Her voice is sharp. "Please." She softens her tone.

Bringing her upstairs was only partially to show her the toilet my dates previously ahhed and oohed about. I also wanted to show her what she's missing by insisting we live in the duplex. That she could be living here with all the conveniences that money can buy at her fingertips. If she falls in love with this house, maybe she'll see why I want to propose we move in here, convert one of the bedrooms into a nursery. I'll be here for Dad, keep an eye on him better. Dad would be ecstatic living under the same roof with the baby. We can have a room for a live-in nanny. Nata can pick any room with an on-suit for her bedroom, and I'll stay in mine. Maybe if she sees my bedroom, she'll see we can stay in it together.

"This is my bedroom." I step inside and turn on the light. Mine is not the most child-friendly room, with light beige covers, white leather couch, and white rug under the glass coffee table, but our decorator can take care of that and add childproofing as well.

Nata stares at my bedroom, but I'm not sure she's seeing it.

I sit on the couch and pat the spot next to me for Nata to join. "What happened?" Did she get a call from work? Is something wrong with her parents? "What's going on?"

The look on her face is as if I asked her to walk on hot coals. She swallows, opens her mouth, and closes it again. Her arms wrap around her, and she takes a long shuddering breath. She lifts her head. Her eyes glisten with tears.

What the fuck happened in that bathroom?

My legs carry me to her, and I wrap her into my arms, hoping against hope that the little thought that entered my mind, the tiny, awful thought that showed its face, is wrong.

Nata hangs in my embrace like a rag roll, her face creating wet patches on my shirt. "I failed." Her words underline the thought that is now glaring in my head.

No.

This is about something else.

I ignore my heart ratcheting against my ribcage and squeeze her closer into me, as if that can prevent reality from creeping into my happy world. Today went so well. Everything was falling into place. Nata by my side. Dad. Even Mrs. Buckingham. And the baby.

"I got my period," Nata mumbles into my chest.

A hot spike skewers my heart, and I shudder. I knew it before she said the words. The thoughts were correct. I grind my teeth, and the tears stay inside my throat. She can cry. I don't get that option. I bury my cheek in her hair and stroke her back as I slowly return to the couch and attempt to sit her on my lap.

She balks. "No. The blood. I need a pad; I'll ruin your clothes."

"Fuck the clothes." I tug her, and she collapses, all fight gone. "I can redecorate this entire house if you'd like. Who cares about clothes when you are hurting."

"I'm a mess. I thought we did it. Now the...I...what do we do?" She curls into a ball against me, fitting perfectly between my lap and my chin.

"We grieve," I say into the back of her neck.