Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
I’m awake now, but then again I’m always awake it seems. Having a baby girl has made for constant awareness and vigilance. I hear her whimper, as she often does this time of morning, and immediately stir to go feed my daughter. But Dylan, who had apparently been more awake than I gave him credit for, presses his strong arm down, holding me in place, groaning sleepily.
“What?” I whisper laughingly.
“It’s my turn. Go back to sleep,” he answers groggily. “It’s okay, baby, I’m awake anyway,” I answer, and start getting out of bed again. But Dylan sleepily pulls me back in bed and towards him, kissing me on the nose.
“Stay. It’s okay, you've been up all night with her. It’s my turn. Try to sleep a couple more hours.” And before I can protest, he swings his agile body, clothed only in a pair of designer black boxers, out of bed. He winks and staggers out of our bedroom to our now crying baby girl.
Deliriously happy with love, I close my eyes and feel myself drifting back to sleep as I hear Dylan crooning to Rosie in the next room. Once or twice, on the edge of sleep, before I fall into the dark, welcoming abyss, I open my eyes just a crack. Through the doorway I catch a glimpse of my tall, broad-shouldered, Adonis of a boyfriend in his boxers, cradling our adorable baby girl in his arms as he feeds and sings to her. And I allow the darkness to welcome me with a contentment that can’t possibly ever be topped.
But I'm wrong.
I must have slept for longer than I planned, because when I wake up the sun is casting shadows on the other side of the room. I stir and squint, finding myself entirely alone and in perfect silence. Where are Dylan and Rosie? They must have gone for a walk. Rosie loves the sand pipers on the beach and Dylan can’t resist giving her whatever her little heart desires.
I stretch lazily, feeling curiously rested. I haven't felt this fresh in months, to be honest. It’s a perfect time for a nice, long, hot shower, so I step into the en suite and let myself relax under the pounding water. Coming out again and stepping into our bedroom almost a half an hour later, I feel incredible. And my feeling of euphoria is immediately met by a vision I wasn't expecting: there’s a dress hanging from a hanger on the outside of my wardrobe. It’s absolutely gorgeous: long, cobalt blue silk material cascades to the floor in elegant folds. I gasp - it’s the Versace I made a passing comment about last week when we watched the Oscars! The one Selma Hayek had been wearing. Holy shit, Dylan’s actually gone and bought it for me, and I see a note dangling from the sleeve. Coming closer I see it’s written in his handwriting:
My beautiful Fiona, please wear this dress and meet me on the South Lawn. Rosie and I will meet you there.
I giggle into my hands, unable to contain my delight. The South Lawn is a wide stretch of private beach immediately behind our house, shielded from the breeze by glass wind breakers, and lined with flower boxes full of roses. It’s incredibly romantic, and my favorite place for a picnic - and Dylan knows it. Suddenly overcome by an intoxicating rush of excitement, I throw my towel on the floor and take the cobalt blue dress off the hanger.
It fits perfectly. The thin straps are long, allowing for a very low neckline, just above the nipples. The bodice of the dress hugs my huge tits, now even bigger and more swollen than usual because of breastfeeding. It presses them together so that I look like some kind of fertility statue. The rest of the silk folds cascade down my body, draping me in delightfully soft and airy material. I look in the mirror and actual tears come to my eyes: I look like a queen. Even I have to admit that. I feel like I’m seeing myself through Dylan’s eyes - I’d been feeling so blubbery and large after giving birth to Rosie, but Dylan always insisted he loved my body just as it was, telling me I looked like a goddess. I never believed him - until now. Because the dress is ravishing on my curves, and with Dylan’s love and support behind me, I finally believe it. My heart pounds rapidly, and I take a deep breath, smiling at myself in my reflection before tussling my long brown curls. I decide against make-up. I'm feeling beautifully natural.
I see them immediately when I exit the porch and head down the South Lawn. Dylan is wearing white linen pants and a white shirt, and has Rosie on his arm, who is dressed in a little cobalt blue dress to match mine. They see me at the same time: Rosie shrieks happily, bouncing in her daddy’s arms. Dylan is simply beaming at me while flashing that incredible smile. And with anticipation, I approach them as if I’m gliding on air, riding the wings of love with the cobalt blue silk billowing softly in the breeze.