There was no other way to describe it than being stabbed from the inside out. Irene's lower stomach, lower back, and hips ached. No matter which way she tried to lie, there was no relief.
However, she couldn't decide if she would rather be experiencing it all alone or amongst a bunch of men who could never understand what she went through each month and went to great lengths to hide.
There were times after Leif died when she felt low and wondered if he could tell she was a girl, far before he let on, because it was obvious when she was feeling grumpy or lacking energy. He was the one closest to her and probably understood her mood cycles better than anyone else.
At least during those times, she had someone there, while now she only had a horse who didn't care whether or not she was in pain, only that she kept feeding him and whether or not they were going somewhere.
