Page 83 of Merciful Lies

Mrs. Pirillo is sitting in the nursery where the baby is sleeping while I shower and dress.

I’ve never done this. Just surprised Nico at the Den. But I can’t wait to see him tonight.

The doctor says I’m completely healthy and everything looks great, which, considering where she was looking, sounds kind of weird. But I am okay with it.

One thing no one talks about after you give birth is how every nurse and doctor on call in the hospital seems to stop by your room to check on your vagina.

Of course, when your husband is Nico Fury, that means all the staff are female and married.

After a while, you kind of get numb to it. Besides, there is only one person I want face to face with my coochie. And that’s my hot as fuck husband.

After six weeks of wearing functional, practical clothes. I want to look pretty. No more weird mesh underwear and enormous diaper pads. No more tops stained with breastmilk and ointment to keep the skin of my nipples from cracking.

I want to feel like a woman. I want Nico to look at me again with desire.

So, I dress carefully.

I was chubby before I was pregnant, so overall I did not gain a lot of weight. All the swelling at the end of my last trimester had something to do with retaining fluids. But that all went away within the first few days after I gave birth.

My boobs are definitely bigger, a side effect of breastfeeding. And I can’t say I am not happy with how they look, because my cleavage is better than ever.

My stomach is soft and round, but that isn’t new. I was always bigger, curvier. But Nico never seemed to mind before. And I am hoping he doesn’t mind now.

I turn in the mirror and bite my lip. I am wearing a wrap dress with a flower print, perfect for a summer evening. It hugs my breasts and cinches at my waist, but the skirt is loose and swirls around my hips, landing above my knees in a flutter of soft fabric.

Sliding my feet into a pair of wedge sandals, I scrunch my curls and apply another coat of sheer lip gloss. I give Mrs. Pirillo a few last minute instructions and inform her I just pumped and put the milk in the fridge with the others.

I kiss my son, then I walk to the living room to wait for my ride. The intercom buzzes by the front door, and I go to answer it.

“Maria is here for you, Mrs. Fury,” the guard sounds hesitant, but both Maria and Giselle are on their list of approved visitors.

“Okay, I’m coming out,” I tell him.

It doesn’t take long to convince the security guard that Nico is expecting me, and he calls for one of the cars to meet me downstairs.

“You look great,” Maria tells me.

My smile turns into a frown when I notice her hesitancy.

“What’s wrong? I’m sorry if me asking you to come with me is last minute?—”

“Not at all, my shift starts in a half hour. So, this is perfect.”

I nod, accepting her word.

“You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m nervous. I mean, it’s one thing for a guy to be all hot and bothered about you before he witnesses your vagina splitting in two in a hospital room, but after?”

“Splits in two?”

“Have you ever seen someone give birth? It is not pretty. No one told me there would be so many fluids,” I say, and I’m starting to breathe funny.

I think it’s my nerves making me panic.

“Fluids?” Maria scoffs.

“Uh, yeah. First, your water breaks. Then there is blood and more amniotic fluid. And last, the afterbirth, which is every bit as horror movie worthy as it sounds,” I tell her, and might actually be full on panicking at that moment.

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