⇾ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 ➪ 𝘼 𝘾𝙤𝙯𝙮 𝙑𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙖

ꕥ May 22, 1969 ꕥ
6 weeks

The touchdown in Corfu couldn't have come any quicker. I was so relieved to be here now. My stomach was churning uncomfortably and I was ready to curl up in a bed and sleep my troubles away, but first, I needed to be fed. I was starving.

My leg bounced up and down nervously as the stewardess went over the normal spiel about getting off the plane. When everyone began to stand up, we followed in suite, but Mary happens to be asleep on me so I had to wait for Paul. He pulled his backpack from the overhead compartment and then reached down to scoop her into his arms, cradling her. Finally, I stood up and reached for Mary and I's bags and we made our way off of the plane as fast as we could. As soon as I was breathing fresh air, I took the biggest breath I felt like I'd ever taken and immediately had the urge to be sick.

"Oh, God," I moaned towards Paul. I shoved the bags in my hand towards him and ran off to the nearest bathroom I could find, praying to God that I'd make it in time.

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

"Fucking planes. I hate 'em," I mumbled with my head leaning against my hand, stirring my Coke around with my straw and hearing the ice clink against the side of the glass. We were sitting in a small restaurant just down the road from the airport.

Paul looked at me sympathetically. "Are you at least feeling any better now?" he asked me and I shook my head.

"Sucks that it had to hold out today," I muttered, looking at my watch that read 5:25 PM. "Even in London it would be over by now. Speaking of which, I guess this watch is useless now since it's telling me the wrong bloody time." I rolled my eyes. My nausea had utterly destroyed my mood. I was irritated that this was my chance to get a break from stress, and it had just been so rudely ruined by my pregnancy.

And they say pregnancy was supposed to be a happy time? No bloody way.

"Well, I think we're all pretty tired anyways," Paul told me with an encouraging smile. "We'll just check into the villa and go to bed. How does that sound?"

"Good," I replied, offering up a small smile for just a moment, but it wasn't long until I was frowning again. "I hope this doesn't happen the whole trip," I said, tears threatening to gather in my eyes, but I refused to cry. Especially since Mary was sitting right next to me, calmly drawing pictures on a piece of paper to keep herself occupied. I didn't want her to see me upset. I couldn't ruin this vacation for her or Paul. I could care less about myself, really. I just wanted them to have a good time. Even so, I definitely would have been pissed if I didn't get to do anything, selfish as it may seem.

"Love, it won't. You just had a rough time today because of the bloody planes. You always get air sick. You know that, you silly girl." He smiled in attempt to bring joy back onto my face, but I was now too depressed to smile. The waitress who was serving us finally came back and delivered our food. I was ready to dig in.

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

Our villa was nice and cozy. It had two bedrooms: one adult and one kid's along with a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. We were within walking distance of the beach, and it helped that I could take a deep breath without vomiting now.

Since we had eaten and the taste of my food had gotten rid of the nasty taste of vomit, I had been feeling a little bit better. I hadn't puked since we had first arrived at the restaurant, not even as our small rental car rattled down the road on the way here, jostling me around more than could be considered comfortable in any world.

Mary was fighting to get out of Paul's arms as soon as we entered the little house. She ran off, going to find her room. I looked around at all decor in the small living room and the large glass doors leading out onto a balcony that overlooked the beach. I could get used to this real quick.

"Daddy, look!" Mary yelled and Paul dropped the bag in his hand and ran to find her, me following close behind. Mary had found her room. There was a small loft bed with some stairs leading up to the bed and she looked delighted. The floor was carpeted, the sides were high, and the bed barely even doubled her height, but it still made me nervous.

"Oh, how cool!" Paul said enthusiastically. He looked almost as excited about the bed as she was. Mary immediately went over and began to climb up the stairs that led her to the top. She grinned down at us once she was up there and then laid down. When her head popped back up again, she yawned.

"I'm tired," she said and I grinned at her. "Well, come down here and we'll put your pajamas on, okay?"

She nodded and carefully made her way back down the stairs.

"Go get them," I told Paul.

"Oh, right," he said before leaving the room. I sat down in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and pulled Mary onto my lap.

"Are you excited to go down to the beach tomorrow?" I asked her with a grin.

She nodded, a toothy smile spreading across her face. "Daddy told me you're strong and can lift a lion," she said to me and I couldn't help but let my heart swell up with joy.

"Did he?" I asked with a chuckle.

Her head bobbed up and down and Paul returned. "I can lift a lion?" I asked him with a chuckle.

He smirked and nodded. "That's how strong you are," he replied, coming over with one of Mary's nightgowns in his hands.

"Okay, let's get you changed," I said to Mary, lowering her back onto the ground and kneeling in front of her. I helped her into her nightgown, we went to the bathroom to brush our teeth, and then Paul picked her up and carried her back towards the bed.

She leaned her head against him, her eyes now visibly struggling to stay open. We both placed a kiss on her cheek and Paul laid her down in bed. "Goodnight, Mary," he said to her with a smile.

"Goodnight, Daddy. Goodnight, Mummy," she said, her words slurring together and her eyes slipping closed.

"Goodnight, love," I responded. Paul and I crept out of the room and went to our bedroom instead. It was just as cozy as the rest of the house. I was making my way over to my bag when I felt Paul's arms close around me.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked me quietly, placing his lips on the back of my neck.

I giggled. "I'm getting my pajamas," I responded.

"Forget it. You don't need them."

"I've been puking all day," I responded teasingly. "Do you really want that?"

"I want you," he said in a deep, lyrical voice. "I want you so bad, babe / I want you so bad it's driving me mad, it's driving me mad. I wanna make you feel good."

I sighed lightly when I felt his breath tickle my neck. "Dammit, Paul," I said. "Fucking tease."

"Is that an invitation?" he asked, leading me over to the bed and laying me down.

"Hmm," I hummed as he crawled on top of me. "Yeah, I think it is."

"Ahh, perfect." He grinned down at me.

"Why do you wear these button-ups?" I asked him as I went to work unbuttoning his shirt. "Makes it so much harder for me, you know."

He smirked, reaching behind me to undo my blouse. "Exactly."