SAERA

Carefully stepping out of the bathroom, I leaned on the door frame first and stared blankly. I just did my business and it’s always damn hard. I feel bruised down there. It’s been only a couple of days but I am even thankful it wasn’t as uncomfortable as the first day, I couldn’t even sit much. My eyes gazed at the living room’s direction where my husband was having our baby in his arms, rocking the angel gently. I am so freaking tired. I know it’s only been like. . . four days? Am I bad if I say I kind of want to escape right now? I don’t know, I just. . . feel so new. My thoughts were interrupted short when I heard my husband’s voice calling out my name.

 “What.” I croak back before leaning the back of my head more on the frame.

I feel so irritated without any reason.

“What is it again?” He asked, probably noticing the discomfort and irritation in my voice. I see him lock his eyes at my direction for a couple of seconds before standing up. He made his steps very gentle while constantly gazing down to our baby. “Are you still sore?” Without answering his question, I carefully took Jongyul from him. “I said don’t remove the cloth around him. I repeated it for over a hundred times.” I hiss when I saw the cloth which keeps Jongyul warm on the couch again. “I just don’t think he’s comfortable with that.” Baekhyun answered from behind but I just walked straight to the couch and carefully placed it back around Jongyul’s body. “It’s freaking cold, you expect a baby to feel comfortable with only his clothes?” I snort and turned back to him. “Okay fine, I’m sorry.” He answered back while even rolling his eyes.

Did he just roll his eyes at me?

This is war.

“Now you’re angry.” I said as a matter of fact.

I see Baekhyun putting his damn hands on his damn waist and made a blowfish. That expression of his right now really irritates me—even more than I already am. “No, you’re angry. I’m not even doing anything.” He answered back but somehow, he already sounded tired. I know he is. I, as well, am tired as hell. “You’re not doing anything? This cloth, you removed it again. He was sleeping when I went to the bathroom, you woke him up again. Earlie—“He woke up. I swear, I didn’t wake him up.” Baekhyun cut me off. Turning my head away, I pierce my lips together trying to hold my temper. Ugh, I just exploded again and even that irritates me. “Saera-yah…” When I heard my husband’s clear but soft loving voice, I failed to start another argument this time. I heave a sigh. Without even knowing it, he was already standing beside me and he put an arm around my body. I felt him press my shoulder gently. “You need to relax.” He muttered and that’s when my tears began streaming down my cheeks. When I broke down, Baekhyun took Jongyul from my arms again and gently placed him down the thick comforter placed on our wide sofa. “Hey…” He went back to my side and wrapped his arms around my body.

I cried even harder.

Everything’s just so hard.

“I don’t think I’m doing a great job.” I muffled, my face literally buried down my husband’s broad chest. I didn’t hear any answer from him but instead, he made our eyes meet with a hand on my chin. “Am I doing it wrong?” I asked, my voice came out rather hesitant and shaky. I sounded like a kid who just lost her favorite teddy bear. The last time I got this emotional was still two years ago—let’s not even talk about it. “It’s our child, your child. No one could ever do anything for him better than you can.” I finally heard that usual comforting sound of his voice. I sniff like a child, once again and I earned a smug chuckle from him. Jongyul really resembles my husband, very good my son. I have a very average looking face compared to my good-looking partner. It’s a relief that Jongyul got his features. “Y-you’re not lying?” I asked even though I already feel flattered of what he just said.

No reason. I just wanted to hear it one more time.

I’m a spoiled wife. Why argue.

Again, I see that handsome smile my husband always had. He lifts my head even more, his hand still on my chin. “When did I lie?” He asked. Yea, he’s right. He isn’t the type to lie. But still, my woman’s-hunger-for-compliment illness worked up. “When you said my body’s pretty…” I murmured. A part of me was just simply acting all cutesy and emotional but another part is telling the truth. I was a ballerina and back when we made love for the very first time, I was at my most skinny state. It’s not a very good sight if I’d strip. But that time,