Lamborghini | Tony Stark

FIFTY NINE - IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH

Sasha was discharged from the hospital two days before New Year's Eve with strict instructions to take it easy in order for her recovery to be as smooth as possible, though taking it easy had never really been something the prestigious lawyer was good at.

Being barely able to walk from the bathroom to the couch by herself made relaxing a little easier for Sasha, limiting her physical activity to almost nothing, however her work ethic was not one of the things restricted by being practically bed-bound.

From eight o'clock in the morning until six o'clock in the evening, Sasha sat on her couch wrapped in a blanket with her case files spread out across the coffee table and a laptop resting on the arm of the sofa, her job not taking a backseat for even a day after leaving the hospital.

Ryan Taylor had tried his best to tell Sasha to take some time off, even threatening to fire her completely if she didn't take the time she needed to get better properly, though both he and Sasha knew he was bluffing.

Tony had practically moved in with Sasha, not leaving her side for longer than it took to run to the grocery store or to pick up some more pain medication from the pharmacy. He still felt incredibly guilty for what had happened to Sasha, even though that time he had been there to save her when he hadn't been in the past.

The couple had struggled over the first few days of Sasha being back home. Being the strong willed woman she was meant that accepting help was a last resort for her, causing her to snap when Tony would jump to his feet to help her anytime she attempted to walk anywhere.

Sasha's anger wasn't directed at Tony and he knew that, her sudden bursts of pent up anger at him trying to help her do anything and everything soon didn't bother him at all, a softness washing over her face as she always instantly apologised for her temper, frustration clear in her heavy sighs and tired eyes.

Tony hadn't expected anything different. He'd seen her struggle to accept help after suffering with her temperamental memory and grow agitated at being unable to recall memories or how to do simple tasks, and now her inability to walk from one side of her apartment to the other without having to lean on the wall for a break hurt Tony to watch almost as much as it hurt Sasha to experience.

It was the evening of December 31st when Tony knocked lightly on the bathroom door, two glasses of Dom Pérignon in his hands, pausing for a moment before Sasha called out that it was OK to walk in.

The lights were mostly out in the bathroom aside from a scattering of tall candles that made the room smell like Christmas trees. Floor to ceiling windows let the lights from the city flood through while snowflakes fell delicately past the glass, soft jazz music playing from a speaking in the ceiling.

Sasha was submerged in a clawfoot bathtub filled to the brim with bubbles, her hair tied up in a clip out of her face while her hands rest on the sides of the tub, her eyes closed peacefully as she relished in the calm tranquility she'd made for herself that evening.

"It's like a spa in here, why didn't I get an invite?"

Sasha smiled with her eyes still closed, her head resting against the ledge, "Bathtub isn't big enough for two I'm afraid."

Seeing Sasha so at peace made Tony finally able to relax, too. He hated seeing her stressed and angry and while he tried his best to always be a calming factor in her life, whatever she felt, he felt too.

"Champagne, Miss? It's vintage."

Sasha peeled her eyes open with an inquisitive smile tugging on her lips. Tony was perched on the edge of the tub with two champagne flutes in his hands, holding one out to her.