The Station House

Chapter 23

The wedding felt an awful lot like a shotgun wedding, between her parents not being in attendance and her swollen baby. Bernie and the kids were in attendance though and that was enough. More than enough. After all, those were going to be her kids now and her mother in law.

The baby was due in a month and she felt like she was ready to pop.

"Babbby" she calls from the living room. "Yes dear?" He jokes. "How much do you love me?" 

He sighs and rolls his eyes with a smile.

"What do you want?" He asks, drying the last of the dishes and wiping his hand with the towel, wide smile beaming at her from across the room.

"My back is killing me." She mutters.

He lets out another sigh pretending to be annoyed.

"Alright." He says, shooting her a grin.

"Happy mother- healthy baby." He says, setting the towel on the counter.

She smiles and heads towards the bedroom.

Her pregnancy pillow is in there.

Her belly is too big to lay on her stomach otherwise and you can't really get a good back massage without laying on your stomach.

She grabs the pillow and lays it down and he watches her with a wide smile.

"What?" She asks pulling her hair up so that it's not in his way.

"Nothing.." he says softly and when she tilts her head at him willing him to go on, he smiles even wider as he prepares himself to tell her.

"You're glowing." He says softly, removing his hand from inside his pocket.

"Every time I think you can't be any more beautiful.." his eyes are locked on hers and she's overly emotional because of the hormones from the pregnancy.

She starts to tear up and quickly wipes them away feeling silly to be crying over her husband complimenting her.

He takes a few steps, only stopping when his body is met with hers.

"The most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on." He says reaching up to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Let's get this shirt off of you." He mutters and she lifts her arms.

She never imagined a world where she was carrying Elliot Stablers baby and they were married and he would be giving her afternoon massages for no particular reason other than he loves her, knowing he'll get nothing out of it.

When the shirts off she adjusts the pillow and lowers herself down onto it.

Small strands of curled hair rests on her shoulders, the majority of it pinned up in a clip.

He ponders how something as simple as a few strands of hair sitting on her shoulders could be so beautiful but the truth was he was so in love he could probably find beauty in any part of her.

He grabs some massage oil and drops some into his hands.

He rubs his hands together for a minute to warm up the oil before setting the bottle on the nightstand and settling a leg on each side of hers.

He begins rubbing the oil into her skin. He's not really applying any pressure starting out.

He's just kinda lathering her up and caressing her skin softly.

When the oil runs dry on his palms he drizzles some more onto them and starts running it in.

He slowly presses down, applying more and more pressure as he slides his hands up her back.