It had been ages since you'd gone to the beach, and even longer for him—he hadn’t been since he was around ten. The beach wasn't exactly familiar territory for him, but he didn’t hesitate when you suggested going together once you both finally found the time.

Waking up early to head down to the water was a tradition in your family, so it only made sense that you got up with him to get ready. As you went about your routine, though, a familiar unease settled in your stomach—those ghost cramps that usually signaled your period. You brushed it off. It wasn’t supposed to come until tomorrow.

Once you were both ready, you got into his car and drove the few miles to the beach. The ride was smooth, and you felt nothing could ruin the day. Unfortunately, you jinxed it.

The moment you stepped into the changing room, you saw the unmistakable spotting in your underwear—and your heart sank. As if he could sense something was off, he knocked gently on the door. He was already changed into his beach shorts and had decided to go shirtless. After all, you were supposed to be the one rubbing sunscreen on his back, and he’d been looking forward to it.