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I wake, yawn loudly and stretch out in the bed. Elliot's side is cold and empty and my eyes open, looking around the room. The early morning sun beams through the open curtains and they blow in the breeze. I look up and Elliot is standing in the doorway to our en suite, in just a white towel. The sun reflects off his wet chiselled abs and I find myself staring.
"Sleep well?" he mumbles, his toothbrush in his mouth and I nod, giggling. "Ready for your sponge bath?" I frown at him and he smiles, dribbling toothpaste down himself. I may not know everything, but I do know that I do not want a sponge bath. He heads to the bathroom again, spits and I hear the water running for a few minutes before he walks back in with a silver washing up bowl. A pink sponge is floating in the soapy water and I shake my head at him.
"Relax," He says in his deep, handsome voice. "This isn't the first time I've had to give you a sponge bath."
"It isn't?" I ask as he fills the sponge and squeezes out the water, pressing it to my neck and washing me gently.
"Nope, twenty-seven years ago," he begins, "You birthed our final daughter, you lost a lot of blood. One caesarean and two blood transfusions later and I had a tired and weak wife to look after." He smiles, moving the sponge down my chest. "The nurses said they would do it, but I like taking care of you."
He refills the sponge with clean water and moves down my stomach, my breath hitches as he gets closer to my most private, most sensitive region. I feel like a virgin– touched for the very first time, as Madonna would say.
"Elliot," I gasp, the anticipation of his next move makes me tingle. He slides the sponge between my legs and washes my most intimate area.
After five minutes of shaky breaths and tingling sensations, bath time is over. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He asks and I smile.
"It was terrible, you're such a tease," I groan, sitting up in bed. "Will you help me get dressed?"
Elliot nods, grabbing me a green dress and underwear. Dresses are easy to put on while my leg is in the cast and they're comfortable.
"Thank you," I smile, grabbing my crutches while Elliot picks me up. He carries me bridal style down the stairs– our house isn't very broken leg friendly. We are sitting in the kitchen, Elliot making breakfast when the front door opens- and closes. I look up to see Margo, putting her keys down in the key bowl and kicking off her shoes.
"Morning," I call to her and she smiles, walking towards me.
"Morning Mama," She says, walking over and kissing me on the forehead. I smile, my daughters love me and I am falling in love with them.
"Where have you been at this early hour?" I ask, checking my watch.
"Taking Livvie to school," She says, "She did NOT want to go today," she sighs and I take her hand, squeezing it gently. She sits down next to me and leans her head against mine.
