This isn't for the ladies because they're being mean to me (it is because I love them to bits)
'She'll be thinking is she loved.' Shelagh sighed sadly
'She is.'
'Oh Patrick I love her so very much. Our perfect little girl.' She took a tiny flailing fist in her hand and kissed it reverently.
'Perfect. Just like her Mummy. I really have never been happier my love. I have the perfect family.'
'I'm so glad I have this chance of raise our children together. So many times we could have fallen apart, so many chances for me to walk down the wrong road. But we took every right step to be right here, in our bed with our daughter between us and our son at his friend's house, running around like the boy he is. A year ago things were going so wrong.' She sighed sadly. They had all tried to put last Christmas behind them but memories rose up unbidden. She had been so scared.
'I am so glad things happened as they did. Whilst I wish Tim had never been ill and I could have had the honour of being your husband for an entire year, we may well have looked into adoption earlier. And this Angel may not be with us.' He stroked his hand across her tiny face. She snuffled. 'I love you so much little girl.'
'She loves you too. Just like her Mummy.' Shelagh leant forwards to capture her beloved's lips between hers. Pulling back she took the baby in her arms and rose from the bed. Laying a gentle kiss to the girls head she lay her in her crib before turning to face her husband realizing something. 'You're on my side.'
'Yes.'
'Move over.'
'Make me.' He grinned up at her, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She smiled. How had she been so lucky to have this ridiculous, wonderful, handsome man as her husband? She could never have imagined three Christmases ago that the local Doctor, whose wife was so desperately unwell, whose young son had withdrawn so much from the local activities, would be so carefree and joyful towards her own self. Two Christmases ago she could never have imagined that the man who she'd begun to notice more often, who was still mourning his wife, would come to love her so unendingly and so passionately. Last Christmas she could imagine she would be loved, that Timothy would love her, that she may one day have a child of her own but she couldn't have imagined she would be so close again to the nuns, that she would have gone carolling with them again, that she would have both the families she loved so dearly. She never would have imagined quite how wonderful it was to sleep in his arms, to become one with him in this most special of rooms, that the love they felt for each other would only grow and deepen with every passing day. She grinned.
'Alright Doctor Turner. If you insist.' She walked over to him slowly, carefully unpinning her hair until it lay in curls over her shoulders. He visibly gulped and reached out for her but she was just out of reach. She took a step further away and slowly pulled her cardigan off, letting it fall to the floor. A few more steps and her dress joined it. Four more steps and her slip was off. She now stood on the opposite side of the bed to him in just her undergarments. Another thing she could never have imagined not long ago. For so long she had been forced to hide herself from her own body. But the way he looked at her, the way his gaze roamed hungrily over her body, made her feel better than she could have ever imagined. She was wanted, she was beautiful, she was his. Smirking she cocked her finger at him. Transfixed by the beauty of his wife Patrick rolled over to her. She leant down as if to kiss him but at the last second she pushed him into the mattress and jumped up onto the bed, dashed over him to lay on her side of the bed. 'There we go. We're both where we belong.'
'You... you...' Patrick gaped. She giggled.
'Well seeing as I'm dressed for it.' She pounced on her still stunned husband. His last thought for several minutes was how glad he was for his favourite gift of all time.
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