It was a Monday night like any other; a school night and the kids were in bed, the washing machine and dishwasher rumbled to themselves and he made her a decaf coffee before sitting down with his own tea. She was sat on one of the sofas, a blanket over waist and knees and her body drawn up.
As she took the coffee from him, consciously or unconsciously, she stretched her legs out on the other large cushion and Chris sat at the end of the sofa nearest her and smiled. She noticed but didn't make eye contact, just smiling noncommittally and thanking him for her coffee with the briefest look. He had been very attentive tonight and quieter than usual. She couldn't begin to think what was up with him.
He guessed what was wrong with her though. Just like her late sister he knew when she was due or actually coming on. She would go quiet and just a bit moody. She would occasionally snap at the kids, even his, and as soon as her back was turned, Dan who knew his mother better than anyone would make the action of turning on a switch.
His late wife Jen, being a Doctor, had explained to her children why once a month she was moody; Cathy was so impressed that she had Jenny have the same discussion with Daniel and Colleen. Jenny had explained to all four children at various times what she or Auntie Cath was cross about and they weren't to mind. Dan being older kept the 'on' switch as a joke between him and Chris.
Jenny would become unaccountably upset and burst into tears and need comforting. Chris knew this of course and would be ready with a pocket full of tissues and reassuring hugs. But not Cathy. It seemed when she was down she wanted to stay down.
This was her second menstruation since the move, and Chris would need to play it very carefully he decided, if only for his own sanity.
It was obvious, the last two nights she had stayed in her own room. If any hint was needed, as he slid through the wardrobe he heard the barely audible 'oh no, not tonight' she whispered to herself.
She heard him as he put some things down, tiptoed to the bed, raised the cover and slid in behind her.
"Hey you," he whispered.
"Hey Chris," she said with a groan.
"Take your nightie off," he said.
"Not tonight Chris, I'm really not..." He didn't give her the chance,
"I didn't mention your knickers did I? Do as you're told, trust me."
She grumbled slightly and raised the T-shirt over her head and shoulders, dropping it to the bedside.
She felt a warm hand and then he was pleased to hear the "Oh yeah," she mumbled as she felt the heat of the hot water bottle at the small of her back.
Rubbing the bottle across her lower back he leant forward placing a gentle but warm hand on the slight rise of her tummy barely touched by her knickers. He rubbed with just the right amount of pressure to relieve the pain she was feeling, eventually resting his hand again, allowing his little finger to rest just under the band of her panties.
"Oh that's nice, you don't have to stop doing that." Gently he rubbed again, and she sighed, "thanks Chris, ooh that's fantastic," she gasped and pushed her back into him feeling the hot water bottle squeeze between them. She also felt that he was wearing T-shirt and pyjama shorts, something he had never done before, at least not in bed with her.
The hand that was trapped between them curled under her and gently held her breasts, not mauling, squeezing, just cupping and holding. He continued to rub.
"Bastard," she sighed.
"What?"
"You come to bed and with evil intentions of making me feel better and I can't reciprocate." Her voice raised from a sigh to a definate female 'tone'.
"What do you mean reciprocate?"
"You want a fucking blow job don't you?" she sighed almost like she was forcing herself to be cross.
"I thought I was trying to make your tummy ache go away."
"Oh, that's what you were doing," she said, her raised angry tone replacing the air of sarcasm to her voice, "and you always fucking grab a girls tits when you want to make her feel better do you?" she snapped.
"Oh," he sounded startled and a little hurt, "I'll... err... I'll fucking leave you to it then."
She felt him slide from behind her, the removal of his comforting and warm body and hands leaving her cold for a moment.
"Oh for fuck's sake, don't get all..." she stopped when she heard the familiar click of the wardrobe door closing. She sat up, "Chris?" He wasn't to be seen, "CHRIS?" she said louder. Nothing.
On the bedside table was two cups, one held his usual tea and the other held milky hot chocolate, her all-time favourite made in a saucepan with proper chocolate and everything. A night time relaxer, not the kind of thing he made for her if they were to make love. Next to it was a small foil packet of Ibuprofen.
Shit.
He really had just been trying to nurse her, to make her feel better. She had spent all evening groaning in pain at him in a very real discomfort, it was a really bad one this time, and she'd made sure he knew all about it. Second time she'd pissed him off when he was just trying to be nice.
She tried the wardrobe door and it slid open, quietly. His partition was across too. Not a good sign. She looked at the bed with the duvet undisturbed and with no occupant. She looked at the bedroom door, still closed.
"Don't tell me, the hot water bottle isn't hot enough anymore." She jumped and turned to face him stood in the bay window.
"You... you scared me." She said trying to add a lift to her voice.
"You certainly scared the fuck out of me." He said, still looking out the window.
