Emilie failed to recall her last night of partying, with pregnancy and being unable to slip comfortably into her favourite dress it felt like a long time. She leaned back across the bed, wriggling, holding her stomach, begging the zip to close. Slender frame adjusted following the introduction of her daughter who Eliza waved her plush cat, babbling nonsense, a story she alone understood. The motivation for fitness waned, distracted by the desire to teach Eliza everything. Tonight, would be for her, Emilie gritted her teeth, a final button held the skinny jeans, leaving Rylan alone with Eliza her biggest worry.
The party, located on the Bluffs, a rocky Isle situated off the coast of Windenberg, drew the crowds. It had been home to a monument or a Greek-style temple, years of neglect meant it was chunks of old rock and a large green pool. Emilie cringed, brave souls swam diving and swimming in a slimy abyss. She stuck close to the Mischief Makers throwing chemicals to the bonfire hoping to alter the colours of the flames.
The main draw, the music, the rave thrived, DJs looking to make their name, and the mixologists shaking mind-bending drinks added to the thrill. Emilie loved the chilled air and calming waters as everything fell silent, she could hear herself breathing, an eerie excitement. A low rumble from the bass, a steady heartbeat rhythm pulsed with coloured lights, twisting, teasing chords built, faster, all erupting into chaos, cheers, whooping, and fists pounded the air. Free, for a moment Emilie forgot herself, lost in sound, hair whipped, feet stomped muddy ground and lips sipped cherry cocktails.
Rylan faced Eliza, she had dragged a bar chair across the kitchen, a challenge for any two-year-old, and she stood enjoying chocolate cake, small handfuls, the fridge light illuminating her. She wriggled, reaching for extra as Rylan grabbed her firmly, his foolish belief Eliza would sit quiet watching cartoon while he edited videos. Chocolate rippled through her black waves, smothered her face, a sweet facemask for any beauty queen, mischievous giggles, and sudden objection. He trapped her in the bathroom, water running, desperate to escape, Eliza failed to reach the door handle. Tears, arms folded, Eliza stood ridged as Rylan wrestled, freeing her from chocolate-covered clothes. Eliza let her body sink limp to the floor, Rylan rolled his eyes, Emilie taught him a trick, bubbles, masses of foamy scanty fun, dolloped on her head, her eyes excited shuffled to the bath, arms in the air ready for dunking. Lifting her high, Rylan teased lowering and raising her a few times, Eliza squealed delighted as he plunged her into the warm waters. This was the best moment of fatherhood, he sat back watching her shape the bubbles.
It could be easy to lose themselves in the toddler training and tantrums, the quest for wealth and fame, but Emilie needed Rylan to remember she was a woman first and his wife. Tired of the excuses they both made she seized a quiet opportunity, as Eliza enjoyed an afternoon with Ziva, Emilie surprised Rylan pushing him against the closet. There’s no room for naked hang-ups when a gorgeous blonde wants her wicked way, Rylan held Emilie, sliding the closet door, they tumbled in.
By the Grace of Sim Gods 