Freya
My whole abdomen screams in pain as I struggle to sit up in bed. After almost two weeks in the hospital, I was declared well enough to go home.
Damon made me promise not to get up from bed unless I needed to use the bathroom. I was okay with that at first, until I realized how boring laying around is.
I miss playing with my daughter and cooking for my family. Arella doesn't understand that I can't play with her. She's been throwing tantrums and driving Damon crazy. He hates when she cries, always resorting to bribery to stop her tears.
That's exactly what he's doing now. "Do you want some candy? Papa will get you some chocolate if you stop crying."
Rolling my eyes, I finally manage to sit up with a grimace. Pressing my hand down to my stomach, I stand and hobble to Arella's room.
She's sat in the middle of her room, head tilted back, and crying towards the ceiling. Alessandro is sitting at the opposite end of the room with his sound-proof headphones on. I haven't seen him wearing those in a while.
He must've dug them out in order to deal with Arella's constant cries.
Damon's eyes snap to mine at the sound of my approach, and he crosses his tattooed arms over his chest.
"What are you doing out of bed?" He demands to know, eyes scanning up and down my body, looking for any sign of injury.
"Wondering why my daughter is crying like it's the end of the world and why you're bribing her? She's going to get spoiled at this rate."
I wobble slightly on my feet, listing to the side. Damon rushes to catch me before I fall and further injure myself.
Before I know what's happening, I'm scooped up gently into his strong arms as Damon marches me back to the bedroom.
"No, you lay back down and I'll bring Arella to you. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep getting up."
I'm deposited back onto the bed, Damon grumbling under his breath about women who don't listen.
"Says the man that got shot and kept picking up the baby against doctors orders!" I holler at his back when he goes to leave the room.
"Don't make me tie your sexy ass down to that bed!" He yells back without turning around.
"Dad! That's gross!" I hear Davide fake gag from somewhere down the hall.
I'm mad at him, but I can't help my smile. I probably look like death ran over. My hair is a tangled mess, I've been wearing the same clothes for two days, and I'm sure my breath is disgusting.
But he still thinks I'm sexy.
A few seconds later he comes back in, Arella held in his arms. She extends hers out to me with a whine.
"Come here, angel. Mama needs some cuddles." She's placed onto my lap and I breathe in her soft baby scent.
"Awe. I wanna cuddle with Mom too." Davide states from the doorway.
"Boy, you're too damn big to fit in this bed with all of us. Go cuddle with one of your brothers." Damon snaps playfully.
Well, somewhat playfully.
My bottom son's lip sticks out in a mock pout and I sigh. "Come on, Davide. If you really want to cuddle, then you can join us."
I can't remember the last time any of the boys wanted to lie in bed with me. As soon as they became preteens, the days of cuddling with their mama was over.
Arella frowns when Davide wiggles his way up into the middle of the bed. Apparently, she doesn't want to share the space with her big brother.
"Be nice." I warn, tapping her bottom lip when she frowns.
The baby crosses her tiny arms over her chest and glares at Davide. This little girl!
"Don't be mad at me, sissy. I came first. I slept in this bed first, came into this world first, and cuddled with her first." My son tells Arella when she continues to stare at him.
"If we're being technical, Andrea came first. You were the accident baby." Damon pipes up, making Davide gag.
"I don't need to know that your pull out game is week, Papa." He retorts, snuggling into my side.
The slight pressure sends painful tingles throughout my healing wound. I don't show it, though. I don't want Damon to flip out and kick everybody out of the room.
"Yeah, well, when it comes to your mom it's hard to pull out."
Damon chuckles at his own response when Davide claps his hands over his ears and yells, "La la la la! I can't hear you!"
"Stop teasing him, handsome. Our son doesn't need to know about all of that." I chide.
"He's the one that started it." My husband leans over, pressing his lips to my cheek in apology.
"You're the adult here. I need you to act like it." My eyes roll to the heavens before focusing back on Arella.
Her eyes are darting back and forth between my husband and son, watching their little conversation flow.
"They're crazy, baby bee." I whisper with a soft giggle.
Her pink lips twist up into a smile at my words and she babbles in sign language. Some words are easier to catch than others, but this topic of conversation seems to be about Alessandro.
I get bits and pieces about me being in the hospital, and how Alessandro was with me the whole time. My baby isn't making that much sense, but at least she's communicating.
"I need to brush up on my sign language." Davide grumbles, probably feeling left out.
"Alessandro can help." Damon adds, always trying to get the boys to interact with our youngest son.
"He barely talks himself. How is he going to teach me sign?"
"Dro talks when words need to be said. He would talk to teach you. Don't sit here and act like you don't know how your brother works." I correct.
"Fine," Davide sighs like it's a hardship to talk to his sibling, "I'll ask him about it later. I'm enjoying being in this bed. Comfiest one in the house."
"A bed that you're about to be kicked out of so your mother can rest."
Reaching over, I lightly smack Damon's chest. "Be nice. This isn't an everyday occasion. I love snuggling with all of my babies."
Davide's head snaps up and he meets my eyes, "I'm not a baby anymore, Mama."
"How many times do I have to tell you? You'll always be my baby. My fat little baby with my dark green eyes."
His cheeks turn a burning shade of red and he slithers from the bed. With a parting salute towards us, he exits the room, closing the door behind him.
"It was you that made him leave. Not me." Damon defends himself.
"Shut up." Grumbling, I try to get comfortable with a baby sitting on my lap and an itchy incision site.
Leaning over, Damon grabs Arella's attention by asking, "Was it Mama or Papa's fault that Davide left."
Without hesitation, Arella points to me with a sly smirk.
"Told ya." Damon goads with a matching smirk of his own.
***
Arella heads off with Damon to play in the later afternoon. Meanwhile, I'm stuck in bed and bored out of my mind. Davide won't come back in, Alessandro is probably with the baby, Andrea is probably asleep, and I have no idea what Gianni is doing.
I miss hanging out with the family. One can only take so much laying around before boredom sinks in.
So, with a sigh, I wiggle my way out of bed. Damon can carry me back upstairs when it's time for bed, but I refuse to spend another minute in this room.
Pressing my hand lightly to my wound, I hobble my way out of the bedroom, down the hall, and the stairs. What normally takes me less than two minutes, took nearly ten.
By the time I'm in the living room, I'm panting and my face is red.
At least I can see Arella off in her toy corner, standing with her prosthetic leg on and building a block tower. Alessandro is sat by her side, his hands hovering close in case she falls.
"What in fucks name are you doing out of bed?" My husband snaps upon seeing me.
"Dying of boredom. Help me to the couch before I topple over. And if you think of picking me up and bringing me to our room, don't."
Muttering swears under his breath, he helps me towards the sofa. As soon as I'm comfortable with my legs tucked to the side and a pillow on my lap, he brings me a bowl of soup.
"Eat up, you petulant woman."
"Keep up the slick remarks and I'll never let you inside my body again." I snap, growing irritated.
"I'm a fool for you, beautiful, but you need to listen. You and I both know you can't go without me for long. You get dick withdrawals and start begging for it."
He's right, but I'm not going to admit that. Whenever I tell Damon he's right, he gets this smug ass smile on his handsome face.
"I can order eight inches of plastic on Amazon that'll do me just fine." I smart back.
"Is eight inches of plastic going to be pierced, warm, and get you there in under five minutes? Is it going to lick your pretty pussy the way only I know you like? Is it going to make your eyes roll back and talk dirty in your ear? Yeah, I don't think so."
Alessandro stands, picking up Arella and taking them both from the room. All the while, I'm trying to find a come back when all I can think about is when I'm going to be healed enough to fuck again.
"Shut up, Damon, and go bring the kids back in the room."
There's that smug smile I was thinking about. The ends of his lips tilt upwards and he swaggers away to retrieve our children.
Alessandro comes back into the room, Arella's hand clasped firmly in his as she attempts to walk by herself, Damon trailing in behind the both of them.
"Walk to Mama, angel! You can do it!" I encourage.
It's rare that she actually wants to wear the fake leg to walk around. It makes me wonder if Alessandro is the one that encouraged her to put it on.
Her chubby cheeks raise as she takes tentative steps with Dro's help. It feels like a small eternity until she makes it to me. When she does, my son helps her onto the couch, so I can give her plenty of hugs and kisses.
"Mama is so proud of you! You did so well!"
Alessandro stands awkwardly off to the side. He scratches his head three times before saying in a quiet voice, "No more sexual talk around Arella and I."
"I'm sorry, son. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. I got carried away in front of you two and it wasn't right. You didn't need to hear that." Damon apologizes.
"Papa's right. We're both sorry. It's wrong of us to talk like that in front of anybody, let alone you. We'll stop." I agree with Damon.
It clearly made him uncomfortable. I'm just proud he spoke up and told us that. I'm proud and ashamed at the same time. Not ashamed of my son, I'm ashamed of myself.
He nods three times, accepting our apology, then grabs his tablet that he left on the coffee table.
Instead of heading off to his room like I thought he would, he plops down on the armchair to keep an eye on the baby.
Ever the vigilant big brother.