It is so good to be back home again with Tom. I've been gone only three days but it feels like ages. Tom is so great, I almost cried when I saw the big banner in the living room.

Boy, this cast is heavy! I had a glimpse of what my life will be like once I'm up and about on my crutches and it'll be tough. Dragging this casted leg around on two wooden crutches will probably keep me in shape since I won't be able to play tennis or golf this season. What a drag!

"Here you go" Tom says as he enters our bedroom room with a lunch tray. It looks delicious, nothing like the meals they served me in the hospital.

"Did Sid call?" I want to know desperatly. I haven't heard from my boss since Saturday and I'm eager to find out if I'll keep the Ferguson case.

"Actually I called him while you were sleeping. I'm afraid there's nothing new to report. The judge hadn't called back yet" Tom tells me.

This is so frustrating! How can a simple broken leg disrupt my life like that. It's so unfair! I've followed this case for the last few months and now, just as it is about to go to trial, it may be taken away from me. The doorbell rings, interrupting my thoughts.

"It must be Randy, Steve and Julia. Will you be OK?" Tom asks. "Of course, I will. What can happen to me while I'm lying in bed" I tell him with a smile. Tom kisses me and make me promise to call him if I need anything. All I want right now is the Ferguson case, but there is nothing he can do about this one.

I turn on the television and catch the end of a broadcast news. "Finally, we are still awaiting to find out if Stanley Ferguson, the 46 years old businessman accused of murdering his wife, will stand trial as early as next week. Words from our sources tell us that the chief prosecutor office has asked for a postponment in this case. Jennifer Bailey, the prosecutor assigned to this affair, broke her leg Friday night at her house. The injury was so severe that she had to spend two days in the hospital. If Miss Bailey is unable to work on this case because of her accident, she could be replaced by Todd Jefferson, who made headlines last year by winning a case against well-known defense lawyer, Jeff Manson. In international news...". I feel as if someone has ripped off my heart and step on it.

"They don't know what they're talking about honey. I caught something on the other channel while I made you lunch and they didn't mention anything about Todd". I turn to find Tom standing in the doorway. "Until you hear from Sid, noone knows what will happen" he assures me. "We're taking a little break, so I came to see if you wanted anything. My guess is you may need a hug just about now" Tom says while taking me in his arms and rubbing my back gently.

The phone rings and I pick it up, hoping it's Sid calling with good news.

"Hi Jennifer. How are you feeling? Happy to be home?" Sid asks. "I'm good but I'll be better if you tell me I can keep the case. Have you heard from the judge?" I want to know. "Actually, I have Jennifer. He has granted us two weeks but not one day more. Congratulations, looks like you have your wish" Sid annouces. "Oh God, thank you Sid! That's the best news I've had in the last few days! I'll start readings depositions as soon as I hang up" I reply, estatic.

"I'm glad this makes you happy Jen, but I want you to promise me something. This case is important, but your health is my number one priority. If this slows down your recovery in anyway, I want you to tell me and we'll come up with something. I want you back on your own two feet as soon as possible" Sid warns me. "I'll keep you posted on my condition, you have my word".

"All right, I have work to do and so do you. Take care and I'll be in touch tomorrow so we can talk strategy" Sid says before hanging up. Tom doesn't say a word but I can see he's happy for me and a bit worried at the same time.

"Are you sure you're up for this honey? I know this is the best medicine for you, but I'm worried you'll try to do too much too soon. Remember what the doctor told you...". "I'll be OK. All I have to do for now is read depositions and discuss strategy with Sid. This will help take my mind off things so it can't be bad. But enough about me. Go back to Julia, Steve and Randy, they're probably wondering what's keeping you".

"Are you kidding? With a beautiful wife like you, they know exactly what's keeping me" Tom says. He leans over me and kisses me tenderly on the lips. "I love you" he whispers.

I spend most of my afternoon and night reading depositions and thinking about how I will handle this case. The prime suspect claims he was framed. One of his friends testified that Stanley Ferguson was with him a the time of the murder. This will be a tricky case, I can feel it in my blood.

At times, I have a hard time concentrating on my work because my leg hurts so much. I don't want to take any pain killers, too afraid it will mess up my mind. I have to keep a clear head if I want justice to be done. I only take half an hour to eat dinner but at 7.30, tired from all the reading and the battle against the pain, I put away my papers.

"Here you go sweetie" Tom says as he watches me swallow my medication. As a force of habit, he rubs my casted thigh with his hand. I'm glad he is not repulsed by my cast. To be honest, I don't feel very attractive with this plaster on my leg, slowly hobbling on crutches...

"You know what I would kill for? A bath or a shower..." I tell Tom. "I think it's too soon for a bath, but wait here, I have a surprise for you" he says while walking towards the bathroom. He comes back with a goofy grin on his face, holding three sponges: a blue one, a red one and a yellow one. "Which color do you prefer?".

"You have to be kidding! A sponge bath?" I say, not wanting to believe what my husband offers me. "Well, that is your only option. You can't take a shower because you can't wet your cast and getting into the bathtub could be a little adventurous in your condition. So what do you say? Do you want your sponge bath in here or in the bathroom?" he asks.

Just the thought of getting up on my crutches makes me shiver, so I choose the bed. Tom goes back in the bathroom and I hear him fill something with water. As I wait for him, I think that under any other circumstances, this could be very sensual, but I'm not in the mood for anything romantic.

Before my accident, Tom and I used to make love very often. I don't want to shut him off too long, but I wonder how we can be intimate again with this big cast on my leg. Will it get in the way? Will Tom hurt me without wanting too? I know we'll have to talk about this sooner or later.

Tom gets out of the bathroom and sits on a chair beside the bed. "Don't get any idea with this because take my word for it, this leg hurts ten times more than a simple headache..." I warn him, half serious. My husband laughs at me, but I can see he's a bit uncomfortable. "Don't worry, we'll be OK" he says as if sensing my anxiety about intimacy. For my sake, I know I have to believe him.