Maggie and Lori left a week after the babies came home, and for the first time ever, Liam and I were finally alone with our boys, in our own house. We’d had two weeks of absolute bliss, where we had all settled into a routine and finally got to know each other. Carter was the most amazing and attentive big brother, showing no signs of jealousy and only ever wanting to be involved and helpful.
I should’ve admitted to Liam during that time that I felt overwhelmed. I was terrified of how I would cope when he went back to work and would hide in the shower daily and cry. I should’ve told him, but I was scared. Scared that he would think I was turning into her, my mother. So, I stayed quiet. Things had been going so well between us, we were getting back on track, and I didn’t want to rock the boat.
I was fine.
We were fine.
Everything was fine.
A few weeks after I’d stopped breastfeeding, Liam came into the twins’ room just after I’d put them down to sleep. They were ten weeks old and since changing them over to formula, were sleeping almost all through the night.
He slid his arms around me as I stood up from laying Archie in his cot and spoke into my ear, his warm breath causing goose bumps to riot across my skin.
“I’ve just put Carter to bed and run you a bath. Why don’t you go and get in it.”
“Are you gonna join me?”
He kissed the side of my neck, right behind my ear at the same time as he brushed both of his thumbs over my nipples.
We hadn’t had sex since before the twins were born. I hadn’t felt in the least bit sexy or attractive, and my libido had been zero. This past week, though, I’d felt a little more like myself, and we’d had a little mess around. It’d been nice laying in front of the fire and exploring each other’s bodies without actually having sex. We’d made each other come a couple of times with our mouths and with our fingers, and now I was definitely ready for the real deal.
“No, I was gonna go downstairs, tidy the mess that Carter left, and order us a takeaway.”
“That sounds perfect.”
I twisted around to face him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His eyes searched all over my face. He hadn’t said anything, but I knew he was worried that I was still mad at him. He’d bent over backwards to put things right between us, and I loved him for it.
“Are we good?” he asked.
“We’re very good.”
I thought he was gonna say more, but instead, he smacked me on the arse and pushed me out of the room and towards our bathroom.
I bathed, I sipped the champagne Liam had left on the side of the bath for me, I listened to Adele, and I totally chilled out for a good forty-five minutes. For the first time in a long time, I felt like me. I felt like I could see, think, and breathe a little easier.
Once I was out of the bath, I slathered myself in moisturiser, pulled on my favourite Peter Alexander loungewear that Maggie bought me for Christmas, and made my way downstairs.
“What’s this?”
Liam had the table set for two and was just lighting candles as I walked into the kitchen.
As he came around the table, I realised he was wearing nothing but the apron I’d bought him to wear when he barbecued. He hadn’t actually gone as far as cooking tonight, but takeaway was good enough, especially if it was getting dished up by my naked husband.
“It’s dinner. I’m dessert,” he said with a wink as he pulled my chair out.
I pinched his bare arse as I moved around him to sit, noting the fresh bottle of champagne he had waiting on ice.
“Why are you naked?”
“I thought it’d save time later.”
He sat down next to me and started to empty our food out of the containers and onto our plates.
“You’re rather presumptuous aren’t you, Mr Delaney?’
“Just hopeful, pretty girl. Just hopeful.”
“Well, top up my glass, and you might just get lucky.”
“I’ve got you and three beautiful boys, I don’t think I could get any luckier.”
“You keep laying on the charm like that, and I’ll show ya.”
He licked his lips as he looked at me, the flickering light from the candle dancing in his blue eyes.
“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
“I love you a lottle, Sarah Delaney.”
“I love you a lottle more.”
He grinned at me, saying nothing for a few seconds. “Eat your food. You’re gonna need the energy. I plan on fucking you till the sun comes up.”
We ate, we talked, and we laughed. We reconnected on a level that I felt we’d been missing since before I was pregnant with the twins, and we were once again us. Just for a few hours between feeds, we were Liam and Sarah, not Mum and Dad, just us. I ate far too much, and I drank way more than far too much.
We fucked, hard, fast, and dirty on the dining table, and then we made slow delicious love in front of the fire. We shared a large glass of Baileys over ice and then moved things to our bedroom, where we had more sex in a multitude of positions.
Over the following weeks, things got better between us on a daily basis. Liam still worked long hours but he was making it home for dinner almost every night and was leaving a little later in the mornings so that he could help me out. It seemed as though once we reconnected on an intimate level, everything else just clicked back into place.