10 YEARS LATER

Writing wasn't the same as many other jobs. You didn't necessarily get better at it the longer you kept writing. Rather, writer's block affected you in much the same way regardless of whether you had one year worth of writing experience or a decade's worth of writing experience. Those who said that writers developed their own ways of combating it were lying. Or rather, that didn't apply to me. I continued to struggle about it. And it was a noble struggle, one of a writer trying to hone their craft.

Of course, just because it was a noble struggle, didn't mean that I struggled alone. No, Zacharias who had willingly bound himself to me listened to all my groaning and complaining with a patience that always surprised me. Just when I thought I'd pushed him to the boundary of his patience, he breathed out deeply, took five minutes away from me and returned with a cup of tea for me and offered to act as a blank soundboard for me to bounce ideas off of.

This time, however, after what felt like months worth of writer's block, Zacharias insisted that I needed a change of scenery. I'd insisted that it wasn't a change of scenery I needed, but likely sleep. Maybe I just needed a good night's sleep because Salazar knew, having a four-month-old in the house who refused to drink from a bottle would ruin anyone's night's worth of sleep. I was certain that I'd never gotten more than 3 hours of sleep since I'd birthed our daughter. He'd just insisted that it was all the more reason to allow him to whisk me away from our home. I was too tired to disagree with him.

So, when the weekend came, I allowed Zacharias to bundle me into my fluffy coat and apparate us somewhere into the middle of the countryside. The cottage that he'd rented out for the weekend was beautiful - small and quaint and the one where we'd honeymooned almost five years ago now. It had lingered in my mind, leaving such a lasting impression in my head, that I'd based the home of one of my heroines from the memory of it. Ushering me inside with one arm around my waist and the other holding onto our bags, Zacharias said little as we reached the threshold. Walking inside and searching the hallway, I couldn't help but smile at the gentle peace that enveloped me; it felt almost like the cottage was saying welcome back.

"Go and relax," Zach said from behind me, setting our bags down. When I glanced curiously at him, he gestured for me to take the stairs up to the second floor, "It's the middle of the night now and we might as well sleep before tomorrow's plans."

"We have plans tomorrow?" I asked, curling my hand around the familiar bannister of the stairs. The wood, smooth under my fingers, was cool to touch. "I thought we were here to relax."

"We are," he assured me but gestured me up again. "But we're also going on a five mile-long walk tomorrow morning."

Scrunching my nose in distaste and knowing I could likely talk him out of it when morning arrived, I alighted the stairs. Reaching the landing, I lingered for a moment, just long enough to remember my way to the master bedroom. When I reached the bedroom, I found that Zach had the sense to send our bags up before us. Gathering everything I needed, I ran a bubble bath for myself and sank into the hot water. Closing my eyes, I groaned out and let the water soothe my muscles. Only after giving birth to our daughter did I realise what a luxury it was to be able to soak in the bath - when there was a four month crying because she was hungry, there was little time to relax.

I remained until my fingers and toes grew pruney and then set about washing my body and hair. Draining the tub, I dried my body and towel-dried my hair until it was just slightly damp. Forgoing the pyjamas, I slipped into my robe and knotted it tightly at my waist. Making my way back to the main bedroom, I found Zach waiting expectantly on the bed with his legs crossed. I wanted to tease him for his eagerness, but I didn't. I had too large a concern on my mind.

Lingering in the doorway and knowing that if I got close enough, he would reach for me, I asked, "Do you think your parents will be alright looking after Anna?"

"Of course they will be." He patted the space in front of him, frowning when I didn't move. "They've got far more experience than we have."

"But she refuses to take the bottle," I insisted, taking slow steps towards Zacharias. I was right, he caught my hand the moment I was close enough.

Using his hold on me, he tugged me down until I was sprawled beside him. He smiled softly, his hand coming up to cradle my face and rubbing softly over where I knew the bags under my eyes were. Gently, he reminded me, "She takes the bottle when it's my dad feeding her. Apparently, when we get back, he's going to teach me the secret so you'll get more sleep."

"Salazar, I hope so."

Zacharias leaned in to kiss me then, just once before he drew back, listening out for a distant cry. Somehow Anna had the knack of knowing when we wanted to spend some time together and would always, always cry. This time, there was no such cry, and Zacharias grinned, leaning in to kiss me again. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I drew him closer to me and felt my body begin to lose itself in him. Because the truth of the matter was, I'd never needed this sort of break to relax and to clear my head. All I'd actually needed was time with Zacharias, to let myself be as carefree as he always made me feel.

Groaning under his breath, Zach's hand reached for the tie of my robe, and just as it was coming undone, I drew back with a gasp, pushing at his chest with so much force he fell onto his back. Something had fallen into place. He was sitting up in an instant, looking at me with wide eyes even as he started apologetically, "I didn't know you weren't ready yet and -"

"It's not that," I assured him, knowing I sounded a bit manic as I retied the knot at my waist.

Scrambling from the bed, I clambered to my bag in the corner of the room. From behind me, I heard Zach question aloud how I'd become so apathetic to him and I didn't have it in me to deal with his melodrama. I was too busy rifling through the notebook I was using to plan my newest project and finding my travel quill, I scribbled down the plot point that had come into my head. It was everything I'd needed - it was enough to remove the plot hole that had been bugging me for so long.

"Really?" Zacharias grumbled from behind me. I paused my writing, peering over my shoulder to watch as he rubbed his hands over his face.

Biting my lower lip, I said softly, "Sorry - but if it helps, you distracted me enough for the idea to organically come into my mind?"

"Yeah, yeah." He waved his hand dismissively, falling onto his back. Propping his head up with his hand, Zacharias reminded me, "I'll just be here, waiting for you to remember I exist once you've written it all down."

I answered him by blowing him a kiss and turned back to finish making notes before I forgot what I'd just thought up. But, before I did, I caught him catching the kiss in his hand.