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“Look after me,” I said quietly.

“And what we did the other night? You have no idea how much I enjoyed that and how much I look forward to doing something like that again. Only next time, I will do it better. Ensure that you…get your enjoyment too.”

“I enjoyed it, Stewart. Trust me, I did.”

I had. I’d loved it, and I had no idea how to put words to the feelings inside of me. The warmth in my stomach. The pang of arousal that shot through me from him just running his hands up and down my back. The scent of his aftershave.

All man. And all…mine.

“I want this to last,” came out of my mouth in fear, because that was what it was. “I think the antidepressants are working, and that’s something I haven’t had in a long time. This feeling of being able to cope. And I cope because you’re here.”

“No,” he replied sternly. “You cope because you’re you. You’re stronger than you think, and I think I am coping…” He cleared his throat. I wondered if it was emotion or the way his heart was beating so fast. “Because I have found something I didn’t know I needed.”

“And what is that?” I asked, disentangling myself from him, his hands now on my waist, mine on his chest.

“I think…” He smiled. “That I have finally, at the tender age of fifty-eight, found out who I am. How ridiculous is that, Dylan? I have lived my entire life not knowing what I am. Who I am. Where I fit in this big wide world, and it turns out I just needed to cross the back lawn and sit and drink tea with the crying neighbour, and bam. It’s right there.”

“What is?”

I was smiling. How was this so easy?

“Happiness? Some kind of new contentment? I don’t know what to call it, but you gave it to me. Just being…with you. Figuring out that it doesn’t matter what you are or who you are, but attraction is a weird thing, and I never knew what it was, and then here you are.”

“I am,” I said, nodding like I understood. “I don’t cope well on my own,” I admitted. “I need…all of this. Being looked after, and cared for, and…supported. And I need my children around me. That’s all.”

“And you’re loved,” he said quietly. “Don’t forget that, Dylan. You are so loved.”

“Thank you,” I said. How was this my life? I wasn’t going to cry. Not again. Today had been such a ridiculous whirlwind of…everything.

“And you love, so deeply and strongly. I see it, in everything you do. You love those children, and it shines through every part of you. How you look at them. The words you say, and how you move around them.”

“I’m their dad.”

“You are, but it’s not just that. You do it to me too. I feel it, and that is… It gets to me, Dylan. I never had that from anyone. This feeling of…I don’t know.”

“Love.” I meant it. Every letter of that word, standing there looking into his eyes.

Love. It was everywhere.

“Can you…” This was wrong. But so bloody right. “Stay. Here, tonight. We’ll have to sleep up here so we can hear the boys. I mean, not—”

“Ofcourse I will,” he reassured me. “I get it. Have you got sheets up here? And you’re not seriously contemplating letting Constance have the downstairs?”

“She’d no doubt love it. Her own space and feeling grown up.”

“She’s doing drawing with Jasmine and Jean. They’re all at the table drawing dogs.”

“Dogs?”

“Jasmine wants a dog. We have two cats. Reuben is looking a little pale at the very mention of dog walks. He’s not the sportiest of men.”

“Ahh.” I smiled.

“And dinner is ready. Mash, sausages and carrots. I cooked off the ones in your fridge, as well as the ones from next door. There’s gravy.”

“Gravy.” I leant up and kissed him.

“Then I’ll wash up, and you probably should get the boys in bed. Marmie looks like he’s about to fall asleep on the sofa again.”