Sunday

The Morning After The Night Before

I felt better in the morning. I looked over and there he was, my husband, sleeping next to me. He looked more gorgeous than he had the day before. I think I even loved him more. I stretched in bed, curled and uncurled myself. I smiled. I couldn't stop smiling. It has been five days now and I still haven't stopped smiling.

I looked at myself in the mirror and I remembered her. I was glad to see her. I had missed her all these years, now here she was again smiling and whole, in power and control. Awesome, amazing, filthy, hot and ready to take on the world.

I padded out to the kitchen and made my special pancakes - ones I don't think I have made since my husband and I were dating. I separated the yolks and whites and beat the whites to soft peaks, mixed the dry ingredients in another bowl, including a dash of custard powder (my secret ingredient) then added butter milk and yolks to the dry mix and folded through the white meringue mix. Perfect, fluffy, beautiful. I put the bacon in the oven and started flipping pancakes. It has never been my favorite task. Somehow though every single one was gorgeous. Golden-brown and buttery on the outside, thick and soft.

I stretched out in my chair, warmed through by the sun, gazing at my amazing husband with an espresso and hot breakfast. I sat quietly as he read the paper and I watched our kids jump on the trampoline. He looked up at me and smiled. "Thank you for breakfast, honey. It is amazing."