whiteturrets (whiteturrets) wrote,

My Sleeping Husband

Last night, when my husband could finally tear himself away from his daughter's insatiable demand for more bedtime stories, we had a quiet supper together and then had an early night, more for my sake than for his, I suspect, although he pretended to be very tired.

We fell asleep and then, a little while later, I woke when one of my present tenants kicked me sharply in the side. I quickly recovered from the kick, but, instead of going back to sleep, I found myself looking at Rory by the light of my little lamp.

He looks so sweet when he's asleep. I think it's the little half-smile that suggests he's dreaming of happy things and the way his hair gets all ruffled and looks so gorgeously untidy. Looking at him, I remembered our first meeting, when I was so very unsure how to talk to a man who knew everything about horses and he had put me at ease with a single smile.

I wondered, as I often do, how a man like him ended up falling in love with someone as dull and ordinary as me. Then I decided that it doesn't matter, because he did fall in love with me and O'Connals (with the exception of Uncle Farry, of course) only love once and for life.

Lying there beside him, knowing he was mine, felt so good! I love everything about him, his gentleness, his humour, the way he smiles when Bryony calls him Daddy. Everything about him centres around love, for his family in Ireland, his God, his horses, his adored little girl and even me. He doesn't understand envy or greed and spite is alien to his nature. Even in his sleep, his face is that of a man filled with love.

I kissed him, just a light kiss on the lips and turned off the light. He whispered something in Irish and pulled me into his arms. As I closed my eyes, I heard him say, "I love you, Emma." and I had to kiss him again.

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