⇾ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙁𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙮-𝙊𝙣𝙚 ➪ 𝘼 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙁𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮

This time I was committing drive to get pizza but here I am😍

ꕥ December 18, 1969 ꕥ

Paul slumped into the room, holding something behind his back. The twins were asleep. Mary was asleep...on the floor in the twins nursery with Martha as a pillow, and Eddie at her feet. I hadn't had the courage to move her. The last thing I wanted was another three-way tantrum.

We were both silent as he fell down onto the couch next to me.

"You know," he said, the first to speak up. "The more I think about it, we are fuckin' great parents."

"Overstatement of the century," I muttered. "I don't believe you. You might be, but me? I feel like the worst mum on the planet."

"Well, maybe you just need a night to unwind," he said, giving me that stupid smile that he always did. That charming McCartney smile that made the entire world go crazy.

"And what exactly does that entail?" I asked. "Because I have stitches...down there, so there's no sex, if that's what you want."

Paul snorted. "'F course that's not what I meant. I'm not that bloody dumb. Not gonna be able to please ye when you can barely sit down without complainin'." His face continued to turn red as he spoke.

I laughed, leaning over to place my head on his shoulder. "I love you, Paul," I said quietly because I only wanted him to hear it. The world didn't need to know it. Only he did. He needed to know the depth of my feelings for him.

"You're about to love me even more," he mused.

"Impossible," I answered.

He finally pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing a brand new bottle of my favorite damn wine, and I immediately fell more in love with him. "Okay, that is almost good enough to make me wanna have sex with you again," I joked. "I get some, right?"

He laughed. "Of course, you do, silly girl. Just let me get some glasses."

I rolled my eyes, reaching over for the bottle. "Nonsense. We don't need glasses when there's a bottle already. You're married to me. Sharing a wine bottle shouldn't be so bad."

He smiled, working to get the top off, then he handed it over to me. "How about you start us off?" he said.

I smiled and nodded eagerly, immediately lifting the bottle and taking a long drink. I practically moaned in pleasure when I tasted it. "Holy hell, that's good," I told Paul. I examined the bottle. "Oh, my dear friend, how long it's been. I've missed you! And, oh, my God! I can drink on the plane this time!"

Paul chuckled after he'd taken his first drink of the wine. "You're definitely gonna need it this time."

"Christ, don't remind me of it," I said, snatching the bottle back and tipping it upward. It was going to be a good night.

ꕥ December 19, 1969 ꕥ

Usually, nights where we drank wine ended in sex, but not last night, though things had gotten a little heated after we'd made it to the bed. We never made it past a little making out, though. In the end, Paul had held me until my worried mind was at ease and I was asleep. And the next time one of the twins woke up, he was the one who helped them...and the next time. Finally, I took the liberty to check on them myself when I decided that I was the mother, and that was my job.

I hadn't gotten drunk last night, but I'd been buzzed enough to have a slight headache when I woke up this morning—and maybe that also had something to do with the screaming children too.