Chapter Text
A little nervous, I check the table setting again, fumbling with the cutlery and plates even though they are all perfectly in place. The oven alarm demands my attention shortly after and I check on the roast dinner after looking at the clock. He should be home soon after a long day of interviews as he told me this morning.
It’s been four weeks now since THAT night, four weeks since he carried me home and gave me a place to stay. Turning off the oven, I walk over to the downstairs bathroom, checking my reflection and smoothing down the fabric of my skirt and blouse. Seeing myself in clothes like this is still something I have to get used to but I like it. A lot.
What I like most about it, is the fact that he doesn’t have any expectations towards me. He doesn’t want me to work for it, pay for it, make up for it in any way. He helps me simply because he wants to. And because he can.
Hearing the key turn in the lock, makes me turn around a little too fast while my heartbeat increases slightly. My first reflex is still to run for cover, to shut down emotionally until I realise that I’m not with him anymore, no longer in this house. I let go of the breath I did not know I had been holding as Tom’s smiling face appears in the doorway.
“Hi, how are you? Wow, it smells delicious in here,” he says, leaving his shoes by the door and hanging his wet coat on a hanger. His drenched, longer curls are sticking onto his head and he ruffles through them with his hand, a gesture I, for some reason, find incredibly erotic.
“Hi, I’m good. I made dinner, so...I hope you’re hungry,” I smile a little shyly, quite aware of the fact that despite the torrential rain outside he still looks dazzlingly handsome in his tailored suit while I’m wearing a simple burgundy blouse and a black skirt, covered by a slightly dirty apron.
“Very hungry, thank you so much.” Again he smiles at me, widely and honestly. Motioning towards the dining room, I bustle into the kitchen to prepare the dinner on our plates. “You made a full roast dinner?,” Tom asks, surprised, as he enters the kitchen behind me and I turn around, looking at him insecurely before I nod. “Oh Evanee, I love you! Roast dinner is my favourite, thank you so much!,” he grins like a little boy who was just promised a huge cone of ice cream for dessert. I sigh in relief and continue cutting the chicken. “I’m so glad you do. I wasn’t sure at first but then I thought everybody likes roast dinner so I hoped you would not be an exception.”
Leaning onto the counter next to me, he still smiles at me. “That must have taken hours to make. I really appreciate it. Next time, I’ll help you make it, promise,” Tom mumbles before getting out two wine glasses. “You drink wine, don’t you?,” he asks, eyebrows raised questioningly. I pause in the cutting motion and look over to him. “Well, I...no, actually not. I...I tend not to drink alcohol anymore because...” I leave the sentence unfinished but Tom understands immediately and places the wine glasses back in the cabinet before choosing some simple glasses which he fills with juice.
“Thank you,” I mumble, focusing back on the roasted bird and the side dishes. “Not for that, Evanee,” he answers, quietly, placing the drinks on the table as I join him with our filled plates. He moves his hand towards me as if to touch my arm but stops before he reaches me, obviously not sure which level of intimacy is appropriate at this stage of our ‘relationship’. “I, um...thanks again so much for cooking. I might not let you go ever again if you keep looking after me so well,” he winks, trying to brighten the darkening atmosphere.
“Who says I’m planning to leave anytime soon?,” I ask, blushing a little as he smiles at me lovingly. “No one...no one did,” Tom mumbles, happily as we sit down to enjoy our homecooked dinner.
With a content smile on my lips, I lean onto Tom, his arm draped around my shoulders as we sit on the wooden bench - donated by the House of Commons according to the plaque on the step in front of it - looking at the London Eye, lit up blue and forming a sharp contrast to it dark surroundings.
We had spend quite some time at the National Portrait Gallery before having dinner at a cute little Italian restaurant just off Covent Garden and our evening is now slowly coming to an end.
I look up at Tom as his free hand comes to rest on my bump, stroking it gently through the fabric of my blouse.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself today,” he whispers with a loving smile. “I did enjoy myself a lot, thank you. What about yourself?,” I ask, snuggling up to him a little more. “I loved every minute of it,” Tom breathes, pressing a soft kiss onto my forehead, his fingertips drawing lazy patterns on my stomach.
“We should go to a gallery more often,” I smile at him and he nods. “We can do whatever you want, my dear,” he whispers, breathing a kiss onto my temple. I enjoy his little endearments, the little kisses and seemingly accidental touches he showers me with all day. Not just since I became pregnant but ever since it became more serious between us, ever since we became more than just two people living under the same roof.
“I’m finished with my therapy by the way,” I mumble after a while, the breeze of the river hanging in the air while the occasional couple on a late night stroll or a lonely runner are passing by.
“How do you feel about that,” Tom asks, turning his head to look at me properly. I hesitate for a moment, thinking about my answer thoroughly.
“I think I’m okay. Talking to her about everything that has happened helped me come to terms with it all a bit more. And she also gave me advice on how to deal with the urge to harm myself if I ever feel that again.” He nods, understandingly, his hand still resting on my bump. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do, okay? I want to help you as best as I can, I want to make you feel safe,” he whispers and I can hear in his voice that he means it.
Gently, he takes my left hand into his, his thumb gliding softly over my modest but beautiful silver wedding band. “I know you do, Tom. And I have never doubted that for one second,” I breathe in reply and look up to him, into his shimmering eyes. “You and our little one have showed me that there is so much to be grateful for, so much that’s worth living for, worth staying healthy for. You gave me the home I never really had, the safe haven I can return to whenever I need, the one place where I know I am loved and accepted as I am. And I love you so much for that,” I add, tears of thankfulness now spilling out of my eyes and running over my slightly flushed cheeks.
Carefully, he wipes them away before they can fall off my cheeks onto the fabric of my blouse. “And you have no idea how much I love you, my dear,” he smiles, tenderly, before his lips find mine in a long and loving kiss.
***
Sighing happily, I take off my shoes as soon as we’re home later before I walk upstairs to get changed into my pyjamas. I can hear Tom chuckle behind me as I seem to groan a lot about shoes recently given that my feet are a little swollen and I’m just not as agile as I used to be before the pregnancy.
Dropping my blouse and skirt onto a chair by the wall, I pad towards the bed to retrieve my nightclothes as Tom enters the room. The light is turned off and the only source of illumination is the bright, full moon in the sky outside. I hesitate as he stops in his tracks and looks at me, suit jacket in his hands and shirt half-way unbuttoned.
I’m quite aware of my growing bump and the few extra kilos I have accumulated on my various body parts but Tom doesn’t seem to mind. “You look so beautiful,” he whispers almost shyly, leaving his suit jacket on top of my clothes as he walks around the bed towards me. Blushing, I avert my gaze to the pyjama in my hands but he lifts my chin ever so gently with his index finger and thumb.
Slowly, the fingertips of his other hand glide along my jaw, over my cheek and temple as if they want to get to know every single millimetre of my face all over again. With a thumping heart I look into his eyes while I let go of my pjs and let my hands come to rest on his chest, the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric. His silvery eyes rest on me and I bite my lip, smiling.
“I’m still not sure what I have done to deserve you but I am very, very glad that you have chosen me as the person by your side,” he whispers, his hot breath gliding over my skin before his soft lips touch my cheek, my eyelids, my nose, my mouth. Burying one hand in his hair at the nape of his neck, I pull him closer to me, relishing the touch of his lips on mine, the warmth of his body against my skin, the thumping heartbeat underneath my hand.
And while I make love to my wonderful, loving husband under the watchful eye of the full, bright moon, I finally realise that I’ve been in his shade long enough and it’s now time to remain in the sun - forever.