As soon as I came to in recovery, I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. My breasts were covered in gauze dressings and bound by a bandeau. I started to cry.
‘What’s wrong?’ Eric said, kissing my forehead. He’d been sitting by my bed waiting for me to wake up.
My lips trembled. ‘Are you sure I’m not going to look like a hooker?’
‘No, sweetheart, no. You’re beautiful and now you’ll be even more beautiful.’
The nurse walked over. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘I think so,’ Eric said.
‘She might be a little confused,’ the nurse said, ‘and still feeling the effects of the anesthesia.’
I felt groggy. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I dozed off again and the nurse returned about thirty minutes later.
‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked.
I yawned. ‘Tired and sore.’
She checked my vitals. ‘Everything looks good. Are you ready for me to review your discharge instructions?’
I nodded and listened as she went over my postoperative care. She talked about cold compresses, not showering until my incisions were closed and my sutures removed, avoiding strenuous activity and a host of other things. ‘Everything I just said is on this sheet. Call the number listed at the bottom if you have any problems or questions.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, feeling pangs of regret about the surgery.
Eric took the piece of paper. ‘Can I take her home?’
‘Yes,’ the nurse said. ‘Pull your car up to the entrance and I’ll bring her out in a wheelchair and help you get her into the car.’
Eric helped me dress and then left to get the car. The nurse wheeled me out just as Eric pulled up. I slept the entire way home and then Eric helped me to bed. At least I was a back sleeper, so I’d have no trouble following that instruction.
‘Remember what the nurse said about elevating your upper back and head,’ said Eric, sliding another pillow under my neck for support. ‘I’ll get the ice packs. Anything else you need?’
‘Maybe some iced water. And a pain pill.’
Eric returned with a glass of iced water and one of the pain pills the doctor had prescribed. ‘Try to get some rest and I’ll check on you later.’
When I woke up two hours later, there was a beautiful vase of sunflowers sitting on my dresser. I eased out of bed and walked over to check who’d sent them.
Thinking of you! Love, Jackie.
I found my cell phone and texted her.
Just woke up. Thanks for the beautiful flowers. Call you when I’m feeling up to it.
K. Love you. She texted back.
Love you, too!
Eric walked into the bedroom. ‘You’re up? How are you feeling?’ He walked over and kissed me.
‘I think I need to take another pain pill, but I want to eat something first.’
‘I made a pot of chicken soup. Would you like a bowl?’
‘That sounds delicious.’
I walked to the kitchen, stopping in the living room to pet Izzy, who was curled on the couch.
I pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down while Eric waited on me.
‘Would you like some crackers?’ he asked.
‘Yes, please.’
I tasted the soup. ‘It’s delicious, Eric. Thank you.’
I’d taken a couple weeks off from work, but I didn’t tell anyone why. I wondered if they’d notice I had bigger breasts when I returned.
I wasn’t crazy about not being able to shower until my sutures were removed or not being able to wash my hair for a week because I couldn’t raise my hands over my head. But I’d put my hair in a ponytail until then, hoping that it would keep my dirty hair from bothering me.
Over the next week, Eric was very attentive. We didn’t fight at all, but then I didn’t go anywhere so he couldn’t accuse me of flirting with anyone or choosing to be with someone else (like Jackie) instead of him.
‘I’ve really liked having you home all the time,’ Eric said one night while we watched one of the old movies he’d bought. ‘I’ve been thinking. I make enough money for us to live. Why don’t you quit working?’
I turned to look at him. ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘I like my job.’
He grabbed his iPad from the coffee table. ‘I saw this job online the other day and I thought of you. Just look at it, please?’
He found the ad and handed me the iPad.
‘Executive administrative assistant,’ I read. It was for a manufacturing company located in town.
‘You wouldn’t have far to drive,’ Eric said. ‘I know you’re not crazy about the commute.’
I handed the iPad back to him. ‘I don’t like the commute, but I’m not ready to make a change right now.’ I wasn’t in the mood to discuss getting a new job and I was a little irritated that he had brought it up. Didn’t he know I had enough on my mind?
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘The truth is I’m worried about you driving to work this winter. Your car doesn’t have four-wheel drive like my SUV. But we could…’
‘Could what?’
‘Well, I was just thinking that I wouldn’t worry as much if you drove my SUV. We could trade your car in for a BMW.’
Eric had been talking about getting a BMW for weeks. Every night he searched online and showed me photos of ones he liked.
‘I don’t want you to worry. If trading in my car for a BMW and me driving your SUV makes you happy, I’ll do it.’ Eric was taking such good care of me and I appreciated his concern. I heard the excitement in his voice whenever he talked about getting a BMW. I wanted him to be happy.
That night, we made love and it was better than I thought it would be considering my breasts were still swollen and my nipples tender. But Eric was gentle and pleased me in other ways.
The next day, Eric and I went car shopping. We drove to a dealership about twenty miles away. As we walked through the lot looking at the cars, a salesman approached us. ‘Back again?’ he asked Eric.
I looked at Eric. ‘You’ve been here before?’
The salesman laughed. ‘He’s been here so often we joked he ought to get a job here.’
‘Hmm,’ I said, annoyed that Eric hadn’t told me.
‘Still interested in the car you test drove the other day?’ the salesman asked.
‘Yes. I’d like to take my wife for a ride.’
The salesman gave Eric the keys and we both got into the black sports coupe.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were at this dealership before?’ I asked Eric as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the highway.
‘Why does it matter?’
‘It matters to me. I thought we were picking out this car together.’
‘We are. That’s why I’m taking you on a test drive. What do you think of the red interior?’
I shrugged. ‘I like the black better.’
‘Can’t you just ever be happy?’ he shouted. ‘I’m buying a car so you don’t have to drive to work in an unsafe vehicle this winter. I’m doing this for you; not me.’
‘I know you’re doing it for me and I appreciate it.’
‘Well, you don’t act like it.’
‘I’m sorry. I do. I love you. If you like the red interior, then get it.’
‘Are you sure you like it?’ he asked.
‘Positive. You’re the one driving it so you need to be happy. If you’re happy with it, I’m happy.’
We left in my car and came home in his new BMW.