Mr (W)right

Caspian

I gazed at Ava, concern etched on my face. She was staring blankly ahead, her eyes glassy and unresponsive. Her hands were clenched into fists, and her feet were tapping impatiently on the floor. I could sense her agitation, but I had no idea what was causing it.

"Ava, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle.

At first, she didn't respond. Then, in a low, husky tone, she muttered, "Call my brother."

I frowned, taken aback by her request. "Ava, I'm here. You don't need to call your brother. Just tell me what's going on."

But she wouldn't budge. "Call Marcel," she insisted, her voice rising. "Call him now."

I sighed, trying to placate her. I pulled out my phone and dialed Marcel's number, but it went straight to voicemail.

I turned to Ava, who was watching me with an anxious expression. "Your brother isn't picking up. Can you tell me what's going on?"

She bit her bottom lip, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. I could see the tension radiating from her body, but I had no idea what was causing it. I tried to read her expression, to understand what was going through her mind, but she was a closed book. What the hell was wrong with her?

My eyes drifted back to the road ahead, my grip on the steering wheel tightening. "Since you don't have anything else to say, I guess I'll start the car," I muttered, my tone detached.

As I began to ease the car forward, Ava's hand shot out, her fingers wrapping around my wrist like a vice. My gaze snapped back to hers, surprise etched on my face. "What?" I asked, my voice tinged with frustration.

Ava's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and vulnerability, her bottom lip trembling. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and for a moment, I thought I saw the glint of tears. But then she bit her lip, and her expression hardened into a glare.

"I think I'm on my period," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

My eyes dropped to the seat, my face paling. "On your period?" I repeated, my voice laced with discomfort.

Ava nodded curtly, her jaw clenched. I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to her. "Wait here, let me go get you a pad," I said, my tone softening.

But Ava's hand shot out again, her fingers wrapping around my wrist. "You don't know the kind of pad I use," she said, her voice laced with a hint of desperation.

My eyes met hers, a flicker of concern dancing in their depths. "What pad do you use?" I asked gently. "What sanitary pad do you need?"

Ava told me the name of the sanitary pad she needed, and I nodded, committing it to memory. "I'll be right back," I said, hurrying out of the car.

I rushed to the nearest convenience store, my eyes scanning the aisles for the pad Ava had requested. As I reached for it, I noticed a group of girls staring at me, their faces flushed with excitement. But I ignored them, focusing on my task.

One even said that I was a responsible partner getting a sanitary pad for his woman.

I grabbed the pad and headed to the counter, my mind preoccupied with Ava's condition. The cashier packaged the pad for me, and I rushed back to the car.

When I arrived, Ava was clutching her stomach, her face contorted in pain. "What is wrong?" I asked, concern etched on my face. "I already got the pad for you."

Ava winced, her eyes closed. "I'm just feeling my menstrual cramps," she whispered. "Can you excuse me? Let me change."

I nodded, and left her alone, waiting patiently outside the car.

But I couldn't shake off the feeling that Ava needed more than just a sanitary pad. So, I hurried back to the convenience store, grabbing a few more items – tissues, painkillers, and a box of less sugary chocolates.

When I returned to the car, I knocked on the window, asking, "Are you done?"

Ava looked up, her eyes slightly better. "Yes, I'm done."

I nodded, relieved.

"But where were you though?" she asked.

"I went back to the convenience store," I explained, holding up the bag. "I got some tissues, painkillers, and chocolates."

Ava's expression softened, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Thanks, Caspian."

I simply nodded and ignited the car and as we drove, I stole glances at Ava, who was quietly savoring the chocolates. It was the first time I'd seen her smile sincerely, and I felt a surge of pride knowing I'd put that smile on her face.

We arrived at her place, and I asked, "Your mom is home, right? Can I come see her?"

"Yeah, why not?" she nodded, and just as she was about to invite me in, my phone rang, shrill in the silence. I excused myself and answered the call.

It was Marcel on the other end. "You called me, is there a problem?" he asked, his voice firm.

I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "Never mind, I've settled it," I said finally.

Marcel's tone turned urgent. "Hmm. Well anyway, you need to come to the office immediately. Some important clients just arrived, and they need to see you before they leave."

I sighed inwardly, feeling a pang of disappointment. I'd been looking forward to spending more time with Ava and her mother. But duty called, and I couldn't ignore it.

I ended the call and turned to her, who was watching me with an expectant expression. "Ava, I'm really sorry, but I need to leave. I have an important meeting with a few important clients."

Ava's face fell, but she quickly masked her disappointment with a neutral expression. "Okay, good luck," she said, her voice flat.

I felt quite remorseful, knowing I was leaving, but I had no choice. I nodded, got back into the car, and drove off, leaving Ava still standing alone outside her house.