She was so beautiful, lying there asleep. Patrick turned on his side, watching her. The tranquility she radiated when awake was magnified by her stillness as she slept. His smile grew wider as he waited for his favorite moment of the day. Every single morning he was mesmerized by her beauty, and couldn't believe anything could be lovelier than his wife as she slept. That is, until she opened her eyes.

Patrick was very pleased with himself. Shelagh prided herself on her ability to rise before the sun every day. Years of late night deliveries and early morning Lauds had trained her to rise from bed, no matter how tired. But since their marriage nearly three days ago, Shelagh had not awakened before seven one single time. She must be tired, he smirked to himself.

He watched as she slowly awakened. First, she pressed against him, still lightly asleep. Then her lungs filled with a deep breath, and her eyelids flickered open. There. That was the moment. Patrick pressed a light kiss to her lips.

"Good morning, beautiful wife," he murmured.

"Hmmmm," Shelagh purred. She stretched the length of her body against his and wound her arms around his neck. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" he laughed.

"Watch me. Every morning I wake to see you lying there watching me sleep." Her arms tightened and she kissed his neck.

"I can't help it. I have to. It's not my fault you're so beautiful."

A low sound came from her throat as she pulled his head down to her lips. "You think I'm beautiful?" she whispered.

"You know I do," he whispered back.

"Then prove it."

Patrick laughed. His Shelagh had embraced this side of marriage with a zeal he hadn't expected.

Four days ago, he had not thought it possible.

The week before the wedding was a frenzy of activity. Timothy returned home from the hospital and began his adjustment to the outside world. Patience is not a ten-year-old boy's greatest virtue, and Patrick and Shelagh were challenged to help him rejoin his world, albeit a bit more slowly than he would have liked. Wedding preparations compounded the chaos. By Friday night, Patrick was worn out.

Yet somehow, alone and smoking in the garden, a tired Patrick found he missed the frenzy. Now he could feel his nerves rising without the distractions of the past week. One subject kept returning to the front of his mind: the wedding night.

How on earth was he going to handle that? Shelagh was a virgin, a former nun, and she must be terrified of what was to come. As a midwife she obviously had an understanding of the mechanics of marital love, and in these past months he had detected an enthusiasm for their brief intimacies. But her time as a nun had taught her to push aside the demands of the body. Where would that leave them tomorrow night?

Patrick lit another cigarette. He would have to be patient. To be her husband would be his greatest joy. Shelagh in his home, as his wife, as mother to his son, would always be enough. He could wait to be her lover. She had given up her whole life to be with him. He could be patient. He hoped.

The reception wound down and Patrick felt his nerves resurface on the drive home. Shelagh was so incredibly beautiful in her bridal gown. As he put the car in park, he said, "Shall we, Mrs. Turner?"

Shelagh giggled. "I think we'd better, Dr. Turner. I look silly sitting in a car in this dress!"

He laughed, relieving some of his tension, and came around the car to help her out. They walked to the front door together and Patrick surprised her by swinging her up into his arms. "Home at last, wife!"

Shelagh rested her head on his shoulder as he opened the door and carried her across the threshold.

"I forget how lovely you can be, Patrick. You're very sweet." She kissed him, lightly pressing her lips to his. It was the first kiss they had exchanged since the ceremony. "But you should put me down, now. It won't do to have you throw your back out, you know."

Patrick put her down and felt the playfulness escape the room. He was nervous again.

"It's..it's still early. Would you like to change? We could go for a drive... or a walk, perhaps?"

Shelagh looked at him with a question in her eyes. She considered him for a moment, trying to read his eyes. Then she smiled, as if she had just remembered something. "No, Patrick, dearest. I don't think I'd like to take a walk."

"You wouldn't?" he asked.

"No. And I don't want to take a drive, either." Her smile changed a bit, and Patrick felt an emotion other than nervousness take over.

"You don't?"

"No, Patrick."

"Oh. Then what do you want to do?"

"Oh, I think you can guess," Shelagh said, and throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed her husband.

Knocked a little unbalanced, Patrick leaned back against the wall. He wrapped his arms around her slim waist and held her close. Her kiss pressed against his mouth, innocently demanding a response. Happy to oblige, Patrick moved his lips against hers and felt the tip of her tongue tease a response. With a groan, he answered her request, exploring her mouth. The kiss quickly escalated, and Patrick could feel himself begin to lose control.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Patrick broke the kiss and put some air between them. Shelagh's eyes were glazed as she opened them. "Patrick?" she asked.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'm afraid I got carried away. Maybe we should go for that walk, after all."

She shook her head. "No, Patrick." Her head tucked under his chin. He remembered that when she was nervous, she would look away from his eyes. He waited for her to speak.

"Both feet, Patrick. I have to jump in with both feet. I want to be a good wife to you, I do. In every way. But…"

"You're nervous?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good," he smiled.

"Good? How can that be good?" she asked, finally meeting his eyes.

"Because I am terrified," he admitted. "It's been a very long time for me, and I'm very much afraid that I will frighten you, or hurt you, or worse."

Shelagh regarded her new husband. The nervousness she had detected in his eyes when they first arrived home was fully blown now. She took a deep breath. "I'm not frightened, Patrick. I know what to expect tonight, or at least I think I do. I've thought about this-"

"You've thought about this?" he interrupted. The idea of Shelagh considering the act that had consumed his dreams for months stunned him.

Shelagh smiled, and traced the line of his jaw. "Of course, I have. I love you, Patrick. In every way." She kissed him. Still concerned, Patrick kept the kiss light. It was going to be more difficult to be patient than he thought.

Shelagh pulled back and smiled. She realized in that moment that words were getting in the way. Placing her hand in Patrick's she turned for the stairs.

"Sweetheart?" he asked.

"Both feet, Patrick."