back at me. It wasn't the body stuff, not entirely. But some, yes. My curves were curvier now. Rounder, wider, fuller, more substantial.
I looked different. I was different.
When I looked closely, I saw the physical changes but also the ones beneath the surface. I was stronger than I'd ever imagined possible. I trusted myself and my instincts more than before. I was whole, my body beginning to feel like my own again rather than parts lent out for others to use. I was a mother and a wife and woman, and I could be all of those. I wasn't limited to one.
I wasn't panicked at the idea of leaving Madeleine with my parents. Not that I ever worried about leaving her with them but I had a good feeling about this night. Worst case, we'd arrive home to my dad singing "My Girl" while rocking her and my mother rearranging another room because we'd done it "wrong."
Surviving three full months with my parents in my house was another accomplishment. I loved my parents, I really did, and I hated feeling ungrateful. My mother was wonderful and we were lucky to have her help. I wasn't sure how we would've managed without her. But honest to god, she had a true excess of opinions on all topics. It was difficult to deflect all of them while also caring for a newborn and recovering from major surgery plus hours of labor. Never mind the exhaustion and the husband who wasn't into me anymore.
My father was equally wonderful. For all his gruff ways, he adored his granddaughter. Between him and my mother, they saved our sanity by taking Madeleine's early morning feedings. But my father also wanted Matthew dead. Perhaps not dead but he still hit my husband with more than enough hairy eyeballs to make his position clear. He wasn't printing Team Matthew t-shirts any time soon.
I smoothed my hands over my dress, cocking my head to study the new flare of my hips, the swell of my breasts. If Andy was to be trusted, there was no mistaking the headline here: I was looking for some sexytimes.
More than that, I was ready for those sexytimes. But it wasn't just sex for the sake of a getting laid. No, I needed to be close to Matthew in a way only I could. It took me a long time to get to this spot, longer than it took Tiel or Shannon, but I was here and I wanted to be wanted again.
In the hallway, I heard Matthew say, "All right, Miss Madeleine. I need you to help me pick out a nice shirt. Do you think you can do that?"
He stepped into the bedroom with her cradled against his chest and my heart thumped right into my throat. There was nothing hotter than a good man who was also a good father. Nothing in the world. Now that I thought about it, that explained a significant portion of my sexual frustration. He was the best father I could've asked for my baby. I knew it from the start and I knew it now, with his big hands holding her tiny body, her bottom in his palm, her fingers gripping his t-shirt.
It damn near knocked me over.
"Come here," I said, my words as tight and choked as I felt.
"Say hi to mommy," he whispered as he stepped toward me. He looked me over, a quick up and down, but turned his attention back to the baby without reaction. Not even an arched eyebrow. What was I doing wrong? What was it going to take? "She looks extra pretty tonight, doesn't she?" He glanced at me again, meeting my gaze with a grin. "Maddie agrees. She just told me. She also said you're going to need to put on a scarf and a jacket if you think her grandfather is letting you out of the house like"—he shot a pointed look at the cleavage I had on display—"that."
I didn't respond, instead folding them both into my arms. Maddie cooed and wiggled between us. I had it all. Right here, this was everything.
Matthew pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. "It's a good thing you have the baby as a shield," he murmured.
I ran my nails along his flanks, across his lower back. "Why is that?"
I tilted my head to look up at him. I'd expected a lazy grin. I found his lips pursed in a harsh line, his eyes stony. His nostrils flared