⇾ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙁𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 ➪ 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙

ꕥ May 22, 1969 ꕥ
6 weeks

My head was hanging over the toilet as I vomited for the third time that morning. Today was the day we were leaving for Corfu, and it had begun quite...well...unfortunately. I didn't know how I was going to survive on a plane this time. Every time I'd ever been on one, I had downed scotch to make myself forget about what was happening, but now I definitely couldn't do that, so I was in a bit of a predicament.

The door cracked and I saw Paul poke his head in. "Are you alright?" he asked, but before I could respond, I retched again. He carefully entered the room and came over to comfort me. He sat down on the floor behind me and snuck his arms around my waist. "It's okay, love," he murmured.

There were tears streaming down my face now. "Dammit, I hate this," I said frustratedly. "I want it to stop."

Paul shifted and moved his arms under my shirt so he could rub my back. "It'll stop soon," he said. "Don't worry."

"I wish I could believe that."

"Just pretend. Makes it better, I promise."

I nodded, flushing the toilet and sitting up so he could wrap his arms back around me. "You're so good, you know that?" I asked. "Always know how to make me feel better. I love you."

Paul leaned down and kiss me on the head. "I love you too," he responded.

"Daddy!" I heard Mary yell from somewhere in the house and Paul's arms retracted from around me, much to my dismay. "Let me go see what she needs, alright?"

I stood up with him. I really wanted to curl up on the couch and never get up again, but that wasn't really an option. "I'm gonna get some water," I mumbled instead.

He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

I dragged myself downstairs and into the kitchen. I got a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water, hoping to get the horrible taste out of my mouth before we had to leave in an hour. Why the hell did we have to be flying in the morning?

I took my glass of water into the living room and sat down in one of our armchairs. Martha was sprawled out on the couch, her legs on the air and pointing in all different directions. When she heard me sit down, she rolled over and looked at me. As if she could tell I was in a foul mood, she got off the couch and came over to see me. She sat down in between my knees and laid her head on my leg, begging to be patted on the head.

I giggled and reached forward to scratch her behind her ears. "Hey, Martha," I said. "You're gonna have the house all to yourself for a little while, won't you, girl? Caroline will come to feed you and let you out. You like Caroline, don't you?"

It was pretty stupid talking to a dog. It wasn't like she knew what in the hell it was I was saying, but the way she looked at me as I spoke made it easy for me to pretend that she did.

"Mummy?" I looked up from where I was staring at the dog and saw Mary standing in the archway. "Are you okay?" she asked me timidly. "Daddy said you were sick."

I managed a weak smile at her and gestured for her to come and sit with me. "Yes, I'm okay," I assured her as she came over to me and I pulled her up on my lap. Martha shoved her snout up with us, jealous that she no longer had my undivided attention. Mary giggled when she saw Martha's nose appear next to her, reaching down to pet her on the head just how she liked it.

Even when she found Martha to keep her occupied, she peered back at me with concern etched into her little eyes. "Why are you sick?" she asked. "Am I gonna get sick too?"

"What? No, you won't get sick. It's the baby that's making me sick."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Why? That's not very nice."

I chuckled. "No, it's not," I agreed.

"Mary? Oh, Mary, I told you to leave Mummy alone," Paul said, rushing into the living room and towards us.

"She's fine," I told Paul.

"It's the baby that's making Mummy sick," Mary told Paul with a frown, and Paul came over to us, seating himself on the arm of the chair next to us. He combed his fingers through Mary's curly hair.

"I know it," Paul replied. "But, it's okay because that means that everything is okay, how's that?"

Mary nodded. "That's good," she said. I felt an uncomfortable sensation swirl in my belly, and I lifted Mary up and handed her to Paul. "I'll be right back," I told them with a tight smile as I stood up.

Paul's POV

I watched as Juliette disappeared down the hallway and towards the bathroom. Mary watched her too, her small features scrunched into a look of concern. When she couldn't see Juliette anymore, she turned to me.

"I don't like seeing Mummy sick," she said sadly, her bottom lip popping out and her face flushing in sorrow.

I moved so that I was sitting on the couch and pulled her closer to me. She began to sniffle. "I know you don't," I said gently. "It's alright." God bless her, she had a heart of gold. She hated to see other people upset. It tore her apart.

"No, it's not," she said, her voice breaking along with my heart.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I asked her, rubbing my hand along her back comfortingly.

"A s-secret?" she asked.

I nodded. "Wanna hear it?"

"Y-yes," she replied, wiping the tears from her eyes and looking at me.

"Your mum is the strongest woman I've ever met," I told her with an encouraging smile. "If anyone can deal with a little bit of sickness, it's her."

"How strong? Can she lift up a lion?" Her face broke into a contagious smile.

I couldn't resist smiling too. "You know what? I bet she could lift up a lion."

"Really? She must be really strong, then."

I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "She's so, so strong, and she's gonna beat this sickness and give you a little brother or sister, alright?"

"Alright," she replied.

"Tell me," I added. "Do you want a brother or a sister?" I asked her.

Mary sniffled again and wiped her eyes, giving the question quite a bit of thought. "I want a sister," she said finally. "Someone to play dolls with." She smiled and it warmed my heart.

I grinned. "Well, we've got thirteen more weeks until we find out what the baby is. Can you wait that long and see?"

She frowned and shook her head, brushing her hair out of her face. "That's too long."

I sighed. "I can't wait that long either," I agreed. "But we'll have to." I grinned and stood up, propping her up on my hip. "Now, let's go fix your hair out of your eyes, yeah? We've got to be on a plane in an hour-and-a-half so we can get to the beach!" I told her enthusiastically and she grinned.