Epilogue

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Zayde's POV

If I said I felt useless, that would be an understatement.

I feel like bloody shit.

I'm seated at our house in Elighton, the one I bought for Fluffy, Meadow and I, you know, the one with the swing and stuff, and I can't even pick up the remote.

I can, but she won't let me.

My dear, dear Fluffy has gone into military mode. She won't even let me move without help. If that doesn't bruise my ego enough, she does every single, bloody blooming thing for me. I mean, she spoon feeds me.

Spoon feeds me.

Think about that.

My hands are perfectly okay, I can move just fine, but she's confined me to a bloody wheelchair, and crutches, doing everything for me.

Everything.

Toilet breaks are the worst.

I mean, of course I wanna show her the goods ya know, like show off and all, but her watching me take a piss is a big turn off.

At least for me.

So, I told her not to watch. I just had to, my ego still needs something to feed on. I'll do the big reveal another day.

Of course, that still doesn't do nothing about the spoon feeding.

She still spoon feeds me.

How I wish she'd just spoon me instead. But of course, she said, the doctor said to rest and not involve myself in 'tasking activities' as he called it. When he said that, he was giving me that look.

Like, chill bloke, I'm not going to shag her or anything. Maybe a snog.

If she's willing, which she isn't.

She's resorted to bloody forehead and Eskimo kisses. Like hello, I'm not Meadow.

For Christ's sake, it's just an accident, nothing I've never been through before.

Seriously.

It's almost as if she enjoys seeing me grumble around a mouthful of porridge. Which is lovely by the way, my girl can cook up a storm.

Literally.

But that's not the point. She feeds me the shit, chattering about airplanes and train stations, while I swim in humiliation and embarrassment, and Meadow laughs at me.

My daughter is laughing at me.

How the mighty have fallen.

This sucks.

Even my Nan isn't this brutal. Yeah, she gives me a thorough carpeting about my vegetables, but she wouldn't spoon feed me.

I feel like crying. I probably would soon.

I think she's treating me like that baby boy she never got to have. If that was the issue, all she needed to do was say so. That could be arranged.

Women.

Currently, I'm sitting on the couch in the sitting room. My arse has fallen asleep, I'm still trying to nurse my bruised ego, and the big game is on.

And I can't even touch the bloody remote.

Meadow is watching Sofia the First, a show I have grown fond of. For no good reason at all.

Meddy and I agreed that she'd let me watch United and City play, if, I watched the Sofia the First marathon with her.

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