Dear Ex Wife Please take me back (Athena and Alex) novel Chapter 160

ALEX

Her eyes snap to me, and I swear my soul leaves my body for a second.

“I mean, I'm…just asking! For context! Pain-level identification!” I rush to explain.

She glares.

I press my lips into a thin line.

Without saying another word.

At the red light, I quickly pull up my phone and search for the nearest convenience store. Thankfully, there’s one less than five minutes away.

I park the car a little too hard in my rush.

Athena doesn’t move. She’s hunched over in pain, with sweat still clinging to her temples like she just ran a marathon.

I glance at her, completely useless, then I turn to her and whisper, “Baby, stay here….I..ahh….I’ll get what you need.”

She doesn’t fight me on this or the pet name I just called her.

That’s how I know it’s bad.

I grab my wallet and rush out. But as I step out of the car and head toward the store, a terrifying thought strikes me,

What do I even get?

I freeze on the sidewalk like an idiot, then pull out my phone again and start typing:

[ What do women need when they’re in pain from the thing… the monthly thing… bleeding but not dying?]

But autocorrect turns it into [What do women need when they're in pain from the thing monthly bleating not dying]

What?

I growl under my breath and try again, slower this time:

[What do you buy for period cramps?]

A whole list pops up, pads, tampons, chocolate, painkillers, heating pads, herbal tea, dark chocolate again, midol,

I’m a grown man who has done so much, and yet this this is the most stressful mission of my life.

I'm terrified of disappointing Athena or worse, making her angrier.

I push open the glass door to the store, and it chimes.

I'm fucking nervous right now. I saw that pads have different types. What if I get the ones she hates and it makes her even more mad.

I sigh as I step inside the store.

The cashier is a girl. Maybe nineteen. Possibly fifteen.

She looks up from her phone.

“Hi! Welcome!”

Oh God!

“Hey,” I say, my voice cracking like I’m fifteen again.

I stand awkwardly in the middle of the entrance, not moving.

She blinks. “Do you… need help with something?”

Yes. So much help. But I can’t say it. I physically cannot make my mouth say the word.

I feel like I'm carrying a deep secret. Is it even allowed to talk about it?

Fuck! I'm so clueless.

I should have paid more attention to Sloane growing up.

“I…uh… so…” I scratch the back of my neck. “Let’s say… theoretically, someone is experiencing... intense abdominal… rage.”

She blinks again. “What?”

I clear my throat. “You know. Like... woman pain. In the lower region.” I demonstrate, “and has a very angry uterus situation.”

Now she’s looking at me like I’m about to propose an alien autopsy.

“Ohhh,” she says slowly.

“You mean period cramps?”

I wince.

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