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Taking Care

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Christine had had an awful day. She had been rushed off her feet all day, then, to top it off, an encounter with the one person she really didn’t want to see. As she walked up the road to the house, all she wanted to have a cuddle and forget about the day. When she opened the door and stepped inside, she heaved a deep sigh. As she was hanging up her coat, Michael came out of the sitting room.  

“Hello, love,” he greeted her. “How was  your  day?”  

She couldn’t stop herself from crying. She had been holding it in for a long time and now it all spilled out in fat tears down her cheeks.  

“Oh, my darling. Come here,” Michael said, holding out his arms.  

She stumbled forward and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. He rubbed soothing circles on her back as she sobbed, her tears soaking into his shirt.  

Once she had calmed down somewhat, he asked, “What happened?”  

“I saw  him  today,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.  

“Ah,” he responded.  

“He just came into the restaurant with his family,” she continued. “Barely even flinched when he saw me. It just brought everything rushing back.”  

Michael dropped a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know he treated you awfully and it’s unfair that he’s had no consequences. But you’re healing.”  

She favoured him with a slight smile. “Yes. You’re helping me to heal.”  

He gave her another squeeze. “Why don’t you go and have a bath, wash off the day?”  

“But I need to sort out supper,” she said.  

“I can do that.”  

“I don’t mind, really.”  

“Christine, let me take care of you.”  

“Okay,” she said with a small sigh. “A bath does sound nice.”  

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The bath was lovely. Christine could feel her tension lessening as she lay in the hot water. When she returned downstairs, wearing her comfiest pyjamas and her dressing gown, Michael had finished preparing the supper. They ate, then retired to the sitting room. She leant against him, her legs curling up beside her, and he held her close. The gentle way he treated her, the way he  always  treated her, made her heart swell.  

“What would you think of me if I got pregnant again?” It was a big question, and she wasn’t  really sure  that she was worried about the answer. Still, it had refused to go away until she asked it.  

“I would be thrilled,” he answered.  

“Really?”  

“Of course.” He gave her a squeeze. “I love you and I want to have a family with you, when we’re ready.”  

She sighed. “Maybe  someday  I will be.”