Our honeymoon was proceeding wonderfully… we had been on Isle Esme for so long, I lost track of time. We were playing on the couch in the living room of the house, and he would not stop tickling me until I finally began laughing and shrieking out, "Edward! Edward, stop! Really!" I pushed him, as he began to tickle my abs.

"Why? You're so cute." He smiled a glorious smile, and I said, "No, no!" desperate. I didn't want to say why. He kept tickling, so I realized that I had to.

"Edward," I gasped, before shrieking, "I have to pee! I have to pee, stop! Do you want me to gush all over you?'

He laughed harder this time and purposefully poked my tummy, right where my bladder was. I clamped my legs together and bit my lip in urgency; the bouncing and tickling caused me to panic.

"I'm sorry, I forgot that part of being human," he said with a small smile. I sat there rocking my hips, trying to regain enough control to move. Finally, I slowly managed to stand on my legs and walk briskly to the bathroom.

As I pulled down my pants and shifted my legs to sit on the toilet, I realized a feeling that I knew all too well. I frantically tried to remember the date, and opened my mouth in a silent scream. Well, I still hadn't looked yet; I most definitely needed to now. I yanked down my gray boyshorts with incredible speed and gasped now; I instantly bit down hard on my lip, tensing, knowing that my sweetie would hear that with his keen ear that seemed to hear everything except my thoughts. At least I had that much.

There was blood. Blood, blood, blood. And Edward was in our bed right in the next room, probably preparing himself for a good sex session, and now his wife was on her period.

Had we really been here for three weeks? Had it really been that long? No wonder I had gotten my period. It was time. It was just… time. That was all. Simple as that. It was like clockwork, there was no way to really escape it.

I threw my head back in silent frustration, beginning to panic, not knowing what to do and at the same time knowing that there was nothing to do. It was finished. Sex on this honeymoon was finished; he would be wanting to pack up and go home, for sure. We could have stayed here for much longer, but oh no. My body had to be stupid. Suddenly, knowing that he would hear but not being able to stop it, I choked just a tiny bit on a few tears. Sex… the sex… it was gone! The honeymoon sex would be gone. And then my eyes widened, wondering if now he could resist my blood… my blood was outside of my body. That question had never ever dawned on me… did Edward ever know when I was on my period? And if he did… how was he able to resist me when my blood was outside of my body, slowly leaking out? I felt myself completely tighten up with fear; and suddenly, I realized I had been in the bathroom way too long to just pee. He would be suspicious if I stayed in any longer. I quickly did my business, flushed the toilet, frantically stuck a few sheets of folded tissue paper into my underwear (no feminine products on me), and left the bathroom.

Edward was waiting for me to come out; he was still laying on the couch, looking absolutely fantastic… and I knew now that I was not going to be able to have sex with him for at least five days. No guy ever wanted to have sex with his woman when she was on her period, and besides, that sounded a bit painful, right? I silently came back over to the couch.

Well, he knew that something was wrong; he said to me, as I sat down silently, "Bella? What's the matter, love?"

I sat there silently on the couch, not knowing what to say to him. I felt embarrassed, even. Why I was embarrassed about talking to my husband about my period, I didn't know… but it was embarrassing to me. It was most embarrassing because of the fact that I got it while we were on our honeymoon.

"Bella? Bella, my love, please tell me what is wrong," he said, looking tortured. He sat up and took my hands in his own, squeezing them comfortingly. "What is the matter?" I sat there for a moment, still not knowing quite what to say, before asking him a question.

"do you – do you smell anything different? About… about me?" I asked slowly, wondering if he could smell the blood. I could smell it; I could always smell it when I was on my period. Surely he could smell it too, right? Was it not always driving him insane whenever I was on my period? Why had I not come up with this question before?

He sat up sharply, staring at me intently. He closed his eyes and breathed in very slowly, seeming to take in every note of the smells. Surely he would pick it up; he sat there for a moment before opening his eyes and looking at me.

"I do smell something different, love," he said slowly, looking confused. He still didn't quite get it, I guessed. I immediately bent over in embarrassment and shame, knowing now that I had to tell him what was going on. I sat there, wondering how I was going to do this. It was embarrassing enough to have to talk about with other girls, but with the boy that you loved? That seemed impossible! Especially since my blood was such a temptation to Edward.

"Bella! Bella, what is it? Please tell me, my love, please," he begged, seeming very worried. I slowly sat back up and bit my lip, knowing that I was blushing furiously. He was trying so hard to read my mind now, waiting for me to say something, anything to keep him from going insane with worry and curiosity. I simply sat there, biting my lip, not knowing how to proceed.

"Bella? Bella…. I smell… blood. Not new blood, though, but – old blood." He looked up to me, wondering if he was right. I let out a huge breath, still not quite knowing how to proceed, feeling even more afraid now that I knew he could smell blood. He watched me carefully, his brow furrowed, before very gently asking, his voice barely above a whisper, "What is it? You can tell me. I know that you know you can tell me anything, whatever it is. This is torture, my love." In response, I felt my eyes welling with tears; I always got emotional at this time of the month. I finally just whispered, "I'm sorry. Edward, I've just ruined everything – I've just…" I looked back up at him again, and he was horrified. "Edward… you went through medical school twice…"

This gave him a hint. He racked his brain; I could tell he was doing this from the look on his face. And then, suddenly, his arms were around me and he was kissing my cheek. And he moved his mouth toward my ear and ever so quietly asked, "Bella? Angel? Are you having your period?"

I gulped and choked in response, and that seemed to be enough of a reply for him. He hugged me even tighter, swaying me slightly, comfortingly. He kissed my forehead after a moment, and wiped one tear from my face. "Why are you so upset?" he asked, after a moment. "Are you embarrassed about it?" His medical and psychological training was now coming into play. He continued to watch me, waiting for my answer, and I eventually nodded, trying not to actively cry. I was embarrassed, although I did not know why. I laid my head on his chest, furiously wiping tears out of my eyes. Edward kept holding me, and finally he whispered, "Bella, I love you. This is nothing to be ashamed of, my angel. After all, this means that you are normal and healthy. Is this the normal time of your cycle?" he asked me very gently, holding me carefully. I looked down and away and nodded, trying not to let more tears spill down my face. He tried to look into my eyes as he said all of this, but I managed to avoid them, as much as I wanted to look into them. I still felt badly. Suddenly, he had me lying in his lap. He cradled me with his right arm as his left hand gently rubbed my lower abdomen, caressing it gently. This time it was purely for comfort. I squirmed a little bit, and he stopped, asking, "Does that hurt?" I shook my head. He continued to rub oh so gently, the look on his face consoling and sympathetic. He kissed me on the cheek after a moment and said, managing to get me to look into his eyes, "Really, there is nothing wrong with you. You are okay." He paused. "Please, Bella, don't be embarrassed," he attempted to tell me. I cried lightly into his shoulder and he rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of my hand. I did not really know why I was embarrassed by him knowing. It made no sense, I shared everything else with him…

"Bella, love," he asked gently after a moment of silence, "why are you ashamed?" It was like he did know what I was thinking, after all.

"I don't know," I managed to say after a moment. "It's just embarrassing."

"It's a natural process, honey," he said soothingly. "But you knew that already. Don't be embarrassed about it, it is okay. It's okay, hush," he said gently when I whimpered. "I don't want you to be sad." He rubbed my tummy gently for another moment before asking, "Does it hurt?"

I nodded before saying, "Yes. And…" I stopped.

"Yes, love?" he prompted as I bit my lip again and I said, "I… I didn't know we were going to be here for so long, but… I…." Guys hated talking about this. Why did he want me to tell him?

But from these words, he figured it out. He rubbed my back and murmured, "I've got you covered, love." He got off of the couch quickly, much to my dismay, and ran off to somewhere in the house. Before I could really begin to wonder what he was doing, he came walking back into the room again holding a few packages in his hands. When he got closer, I saw Playtex Gentle-glide tampons, some sort of pads, and pantyliners. He sad back down on the couch, placing the packages on the coffee table in front of us. I held my breath and stared at it all, feeling both waves of gratitude and confusion toward him. He had bought all of this?

"I knew that we were going to be here for a while, love. Did you think I would leave you here with nothing?" he asked me, watching me intently. I sat there, more embarrassed again.

"I did not know what you wore, though. Is one of these right?" he asked, seeming intense, watching me with wide eyes.

"Bella?" He hugged me closer, squeezing me warmly. "Which one, honey?" I looked at him, still confused.

"I mean… do you use pads, or do you use tampons?" He asked it so sensitively. I gulped and squeaked, "..depends."

"Can you explain that for me?" he looked genuinely interested. I blushed crimson and said, "I… well… I don't know," I ended, lamely. He kissed my cheek and said, "What is it? It won't be bad… I'm not your typical guy." No, he definitely wasn't, was he?

"I wear pads at night," I blurted out suddenly, not able to contain it any more, turning redder. "And guys usually think that's gross," I finished, wondering if he truly thought that it was gross. I assumed so.

"Why is that 'gross'?" he asked, sounding annoyed. He became gentle again as he said, "That's good, Bella… no risk of TSS that way. And during the day you wear tampons?" he asked. It sounded so weird for him to know so much, but then again, he knew a lot more than most. He grabbed the pink Playtex box off of the table. I nodded, redder than ever. He studied my face for a moment before his brow furrowed a little bit, and asked, "What are you wearing now?"

"N-nothing. Just some toilet paper," I explained. He opened up the box and peeked inside before looking up at me and asking, "Light? Regular? Heavy?" He was asking what size. My husband was asking me about tampon size, in the most conversational manner. I looked down and away, ashamed.

"Bella?" he asked softly, still holding the pink box in his hand. I slowly looked back up, and said, "Definitely not light." I couldn't believe I was telling him this. But why? Why was it hard to tell him about this? He had seen all of me. He loved all of me. So why was this so hard?

"Definitely not light… not light." He furrowed his brow a little bit, seeming to think hard. I would have laughed, had I not been so embarrassed. I left him to think, wondering what he would do. And then he pulled out a regular one and set the pink box down on the table. He unwrapped the wrapper methodically, to reveal a shiny pink plastic tube. He held it seemingly gingerly, but he didn't seem afraid of it; it just looked like he felt it was a bit foreign. The man had never used a tampon in his entire life; he was a man. My man. No vagina there. He had the most fantastic dick instead.... I tried not to think about it; I didn't need to get overly

right now. He noticed, and said, "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just - I just think it's funny that you're holding that, and I was thinking that, you know, it looks weird because you don't have a vag, and that there was definitely no vag there... that you had a good.... you have a good dick instead," I said, feeling so bashful. He smiled a gleaming smile and laughed a little bit. "You're adorable, Bella," he laughed a little, giving me a precious look. I melted a little bit from that, and he got back to the main point.

He held the tampon up, breaking me out of my thoughts. He held it up, asking, "Would you like me to do the honors?"

"…Edward." I paused. "It's blood."

"It's dead blood and tissue," he said straight away, kissing my cheek. "It would not bother me."

"I – I should do it," I said. He gripped the tampon in his hand and said, "Bella? May I, please? It will make me feel better." I stared at him, confused.

"I like taking care of you, my love," he said gently. After a moment, I gave up trying to figure it out and nodded, saying, "Okay." I started unzipping my jeans in the most non-erotic way possible.

He took over after the pants were off, propping me up on some pillows on the couch. I mumbled so quietly, "This is embarrassing…"

"It's okay, love," he said just as softly, giving me one sweet kiss on the lips. "I love you, even when you're bleeding. You are my beautiful angel, and I love you." He kissed me again, leaving me in a bit of a daze. But it only lasted a moment; I still became embarrassed again. He gently pulled down my panties. I was immediately exposed; he could see all of my bloody messy opening, and I hated it. I instinctively closed my legs, even though any other time I would have been eagerly inviting him in. This was a medical reason; I didn't want my bleeding cunt exposed. The thought of a "bleeding cunt" in front of beautiful perfect Edward, my bleeding cunt, made a random choking sob come out of me. My imperfect body, even more imperfect now, exposed for him to see. It made me feel absolutely worthless; now I couldn't even give him the pleasure he surely wanted.

He looked up at me and saw how immensely embarrassed I had become again. He didn't try to open my legs; he scooted back up by my side, asking, "What is wrong, Bella? What are you thinking about?" His eyes were concerned again.

Great. Now he wanted me to tell him what I was thinking. The words "bleeding cunt" repeated over and over in my head. And suddenly I said them out loud. They overwhelmed my mind.

"I was thinking about how I don't want you to see my bleeding cunt," I said genuinely and honestly, in a rush, before turning and burying my face in the couch cushion. I didn't want to see the look on his face, and I didn't want to resurface, even though I missed his face already. He was silent for a only a few seconds before saying, "Bella? Bella, sweetheart, please look at me," he pleaded. I had to obey that adorable and pleading voice, didn't I? He was my angel. I turned slowly out of the cushion to look at him. I don't know what the look on my face was like, but his was genuinely concerned before becoming soft. He placed one cool hand on my cheek and studied my face for a long moment before saying, in the most serious and soft voice, "Sweetheart… that is an awful word to use about your body." He paused, looking nearly pained, and he leaned closer to my face, stroking my cheek. "It's just about the most awful word. You have a beautiful body. You don't have a cunt, you have a vagina," he said in a soft murmur. "Please don't call such a beautiful part of your body such a cruel and shameful name. It's not a shameful part of your body," he tried to explain. And I understood. This was the Edward speaking that was from another century, another time. It was rare to see this side, but times like this showed me that it was indeed still there. I felt sorry for hurting him.

"Sorry," I squeaked. He kissed me on the forehead and looked me in the eyes, our faces inches apart, and whispered, "It's okay." I gulped when I saw and felt him touch one of my knees, though, and he kept looking in my eyes, saying, "It's okay, Bella. Really. What are you nervous about? Do you just not want me to see?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to one side. I pressed my lips together and nodded after a second, looking away.

"You do remember that I went through medical school twice, right?" he asked me, moving his hand from my cheek to my hair. I nodded, still feeling fearful. He sat there for a moment before telling me reassuringly, "I know all about the menstrual cycle, and I know all about periods… Bella, I studied it twice in depth and at other times as well. The blood won't bother me; it's dead blood. It's dead blood and it's leaving your body." He paused before saying, "I know how it works, I am not afraid of it, and most of all, it does not bother me. And I don't think you're ugly for it, not one bit, because I know that that's what you're thinking; I don't need to be able to read your mind to know that," he said quickly. I sighed an unstable sigh as he said, "Please don't think that it bothers me. It doesn't. I like your body's natural cycle," he tried to explain to me. I furrowed my brow and he said, hugging me, "It's amazing how it happens, Bella. You possess the gift of life. It doesn't make you weak, but you do need support, and I can give that; it's the least I can do. I can only make sperm, and who knows if my sperm is even fertile any more? My sperm was probably only fertile for the three years or so that I was human and old enough to produce it." I quickly calculated the years, to figure out that he meant 14 years of age. "But you, Bella… you are fertile. And you're beautiful in a whole other dimension because of that. And yes, I can tell when you're on your period because I can usually smell it. I can even tell when you're ovulating," he stated suddenly, and my eyes widened in horror. I had to ask, "How do you know that?"

"Well…" He nuzzled my ear for a moment before murmuring, "Your body gets a little bit warmer down there, temperature wise. And your scent gets stronger… And I can smell more fluids," he finished. When he looked into my eyes again, I gulped; my eyes were wide.

He could smell my fluids? He could smell them? So that meant… I gulped and gasped, "Oh my… um… Edward? If you can smell my… em.. fluids… then you must always know when I'm feeling…" I didn't know how to finish it, but he did it for me.

"…Aroused?" he questioned, eyebrows raising. I nodded. He nodded back, saying, "Yes, I know when you're aroused; I know exactly when, most of the time," he admitted openly, before he leaned back over to my ear and whispered, "And it's sexy. Oh, Bella… it's so sexy." His voice was intoxicating, even though I was furiously embarrassed now.

"But you never showed it! You never told me!" I cried out, in shock. I began thinking back to every time I got really aroused around him but never admitted it; there were too many times to really count. And he knew all that time, and didn't say anything? Then again, he was that much of a gentleman…

"I never showed it, because that would be rude," he said. "Just like I never mention when you're on your period, because that would be inconsiderate as well, not to mention crude. You never speak to a lady about her cycle or her intimate bodily functions unless you are married to her or are very intimate with her and she is comfortable. But I swore to never speak with you about it unless we were married, or you initiated the conversation." Again, the 1917 gentleman was coming out… and I liked it, strangely. But what wasn't to like?

But as far off topic as we seemed to have gone, he got back to the point rather quickly. He held up the smooth pink implement for both of us to see, twiddling it a little bit in his fingers. I gulped, hard enough even for me to hear. I was genuinely afraid. He shook the object in his fingers and said, "Bella, it's a tampon… you're staring at it like it's huge. I've got to be about five of these put together," he said proudly, "and you take that so well and painlessly." He was still thinking about last night. I blushed, but smiled a bit at the same time; he was right. But then again, sometimes the tampons did hurt, no matter how small they seemed.

"Now let's get you fixed up. Not like you're broken," he assured me, trying to make me feel special. It felt like this time was going to be one of those possibly painful times when the tampon would hurt, though. I turned my head toward the wall and took a deep breath, nodding.

"Deep breaths, love," he said gently. He sounded like a doctor all except the 'love' part. I tensed up when I heard the wrapper, and I felt his cold hand rubbing my knee comfortingly. My legs were still pressed together, and he managed to guide them open slowly and gently. I shivered at the thought of him seeing my bleeding site, but tried to remember what he had said, all of those compliments about my fertile body. I stared at the ceiling and tried to remember them. I looked over to him in time to see him getting a proper grip on the pink tampon in his right hand. He looked up to me and saw that I was still nervous. I looked away again.

I felt the cool tip of the tampon at my entrance as he said, "Let me know if it hurts, love." And then I couldn't help it; I tensed up so tight. He looked up to me, pausing and saying, "Bella? Honey, I don't want to hurt you… it won't hurt if you relax." And then, like a pro, he separated my folds of skin with his other fingers and slipped the applicator in smoothly, at a moderate speed. His cold fingers lightly touched my skin; he was in position, ready to go. He paused for just a second to see if I was in pain, and when I was not, he said, "Just relax, sweetheart." I took one last deep breath and let it out slowly as I felt it wiggle just slightly. He pushed his index finger against the applicator. After only a few seconds, he had pushed it in all the way; I could no longer feel it. He gently pulled the applicator back out, and by now I had turned back to look at him. There was only a little bit of blood on his fingers. He tossed the applicator into the garbage can, and he said, "Finished." He smiled a gleaming smile.

"You're good. You're far too good at that," I gasped. "I'm the one with the vagina, and have been doing that for years, and that must have been the first tampon you have inserted, and you made it painless. Usually it hurts when I put them in."

"Bella, I went to medical school… you learn to do things in the most comfortable and painless way possible. And inserting a tampon can most definitely be painless, just like right now," he smiled.

I took a deep breath and sat up, then said, "Oh… I already need new underwear." I saw now that my boyshorts were pretty soaked with blood, covering the pitiful toilet paper.

Edward took a pantyliner out of its plastic purple packaging and handed the tiny blue plastic wrapped package to me.

"Just in case," he said, and I slowly took it.

"I really don't need one," I tried to say, and he nodded as he said, "It's just a pantyliner, Bella. Just in case there are any leaks or spotting."

"Edward, you got it in perfectly," I assured him, "Thank you." This made him beam; he loved caring for me. This was definitely the most intimate way of caring for me yet. I unwrapped the pantyliner anyway as he grabbed a pair of pink boyshorts from one of my bags. I stuck it in and covered myself up again, feeling very relieved. He knew that I was still feeling embarrassed, and he stood me up gently before wrapping his arms around my lower waist.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he said softly.

"I know," I whimpered, still pressing my head against his chest. He rubbed my lower back right where it hurt worst, and I asked, "How do you know it would feel so good there?"

"Medical school."