I struggled to hide my burning cheeks as he caught his first glimpse of my past.

He dropped my hand and hovered both of his over my arms, inches away from touching me. Concern and confusion mixed on his face as he took in the dreadful scars.

"What on earth happened?" he asked.

"Just an old riding accident," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

His sparkling eyes searched mine for a second or two before he accepted my untruth. Picking my shawl up, he laid it gently around my shoulders. The hesitant care he took when he placed it against my arms made me feel awful for lying to him.

My heart was racing, thudding against my ribs. A small sweat coated my palms, which when Jake took my hand as we left, made me cringe.

The entire drive home, Jake chatted with me, never leaving a moments silence between us. Wringing my hands together in my lap, I tried my hardest to ignore my paranoia of an angry Adam storming into my life once again.

I learned a lot about the man next to me and each new fact only drew me in further. When I thought about my appalling behaviour this evening, it stung like a thousand bees because I knew he wouldn't want to see me again.

His favourite place to visit was Thailand because of the stunning scenery that nowhere else on earth offered. His first car had been a questionable shade of brown and so rotten that one day, he literally saw the road beneath his feet. In his younger days, when he'd spent his time drinking and chatting up girls, he'd woken up one morning to find his friends had shaved off his right eyebrow and the left side of his head—that had been the end of his relationship with absinthe.

By the time we arrived at my house, its solid presence looming in the night shadows, I was relaxed to a point where my earlier woes were mere whispers in my mind. But now I had to face the reality of a huge failed date—and I only had myself to blame.

He took my hand and escorted me from the car to my front door, despite it only being a matter of metres across my driveway.

"I've had a lovely time tonight," he said. He laid his hands on my upper arms, slowly rubbing them through the softness of my shawl. "I would love to see you again."

My heart leapt up into my throat, all but stealing my breath. "Really?"

He chuckled and took a step forwards, taking the last of the personal space between us. "Yes, really. That's if you want to see me again?"

His quiet, smooth voice raised goosebumps all over me. I shuddered. "Of course. I just...I've been so rude this eve—"

"You haven't been rude at all. We all have lives, issues, problems. Just because you go out on a date, it doesn't suddenly make all of that go away."

I smiled, albeit weakly. Being this close to someone again, having them say all the right things—it did funny things to my head and my heart. The more I looked into his sparkling eyes, the quicker I was losing my footing.

You will find someone, Louisa. And when you do, you need to learn to trust and give yourself to them freely again.

With a full moon gleaming above us in the clear night sky and the stars twinkling, it was almost my imagined Paris scene, except right outside my front door. But I didn't care—the setting was perfect for him to kiss me a tender goodbye.

He moved a hand towards my face. Half day-dreaming in Paris, I wasn't expecting it. Panic grasped me. I jumped backwards. The sudden movement on high heels I'd not worn for years could only spell disaster.

I slipped and fell against my front door with a heavy thud echoing through my head.

"Jeeze," Jake said, rushing to my aid. "Are you ok?"

I nodded, blinking away hot tears of embarrassment and failure. I was never going to get this right. Adam had damaged me well beyond repair.

"Let me see your head," he said, tentatively lifting a hand.

I scrabbled to my feet, using the cool bricks at my side to steady myself. "It's ok, thank you."

Bright blue eyes scanned over me for a few silent seconds. I could see him thinking over things, working it all out. That was something I really couldn't face. Not now.

"I...um, should head inside," I said, putting my hand on the brass door handle.

"Yes, of course." He stepped back, a flash of something I couldn't quite name filtering through his eyes. "Can I call you in the morning?"

Avoiding his eye contact through sheer humiliation, I nodded.

"Hey," he said. He stepped forwards and placed a hand over mine. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes," I said, biting my lip and facing him. "I guess I'll have a headache in the morning." I attempted to laugh. "Thank you for tonight. I have really enjoyed it."

He interlaced his fingers with mine and carefully peeled my hand from the handle. Catching my eye, he locked me into such an intense moment, I didn't notice him swooping in for a kiss until his velvet lips brushed against mine.

"I'll call you in the morning," he said, all but whispering. "Goodnight, Louisa."

When his lips left mine, he had me immediately yearning for his touch. Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I replied, "Night, Jake," and headed to bed.

***

I wasn't drunk tonight, not after all the antibiotics I'd been on. It still seemed strange to me that seven days ago I'd given birth, yet here I was, no one any the wiser as I sipped at my Malibu.

Adam was distant, almost 'switched off.' I figured it was the stark reality of becoming a dad that had now finally hit him full force. He should have felt what I did—that would have been a wake-up call. His uncle, who he lived with, had suggested we spend the evening together whilst he watched over Harvey.

After nine months of aches, pains, sickness, and feeling like a beached whale, I didn't need to hear it twice. So here we were, dressed up to the nines in the city of Lincoln, making our way from pub to pub.

"You want another?" the barman asked, pointing at my empty glass.

I giggled and nodded. "Please."

"Sure thing." He turned around, preparing my drink for me. I took a moment to scan the crowded bar for Adam but couldn't see him. "Here you go." Giving me a cheeky wink with his long, dark eyelashes, he said, "Have this one on me," and handed me my drink.

I smiled and lifted the glass in a toast manner. "Thank you."

"So," he said, putting his palms on the bar and leaning forwards. "What's your story?"

The guy was cute—all tall, dark, and handsome thing going on. From his ripped muscles, peeking out from beneath his dark short-sleeved t-shirt, he obviously worked out a lot.

"Well," I said, taking a gulp of my drink. "Would you believe me if I told you I'd just had a baby?"

He raised a sooty eyebrow and cast an eye over my short, red dress. "A baby what? You mean you got a puppy or something?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No."

He nodded and smiled. "You definitely don't look like you've just had a baby. How old is...?"

"He. He's a week old." A strange sense of pride burst inside my chest. I was a mum to a beautiful baby boy. It didn't matter how much I said it, it still sounded odd.

"Wow. You look incredible—better than a lot of women who haven't even had kids."

I giggled and downed the rest of my drink. "Thanks."

My nature was flirtatious, it was just who I was, a part of me. Nothing ever meant anything though.

Taking my glass, he refilled it and passed it back to me. "You're the fantasy of a milf if I've ever seen one."

I burst out laughing. "I wonder if I can put that after my name? You know instead of PHD or something, it'll be Louisa Simmons M.I.L.F."

He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, why not? It's a title I'd be proud of."

Before I could respond, a familiar arm slid around my waist followed by the overpowering scent of Adam's aftershave.

"Leave that," he said. "We're going."

His deadpan face and emotionless tone of voice surprised me. "What? Why?" I checked my watch. "It's only just eleven o clock."

"I'm tired."

"Well I'm not."

He reached over, took the drink from my hand, and shoved it back at the barman. Malibu and Coke splashed all over the mahogany bar and the poor guys shirt. Grabbing my hand, he dragged me outside to the nearest taxi.

The twenty-minute ride home was silent, leaving me wondering what had crawled up his ass tonight. I stifled a giggle as images of rats flooded my mind. I stared out of the window all the way home, lost in daydreams of my boy.

We pulled up outside our house; a picturesque traditional farmhouse. It was spacious and adorned in history, and I loved it. Adam paid the taxi driver and waited for him to leave. Taking my hand once again, he led me to the front door.

"What was the life or death urgency to leave?" I asked, slightly miffed he'd ruined my night.

He cupped my face in both hands, drawing our faces so close together, our noses were almost touching.

"This," he said.

Faster than I could even process, he drew his head back before slamming it into me. A sickening crunch resonated through my head. Agony exploded across my face. White dots blurred my vision and I stumbled backwards, clutching my nose. The warm, red liquid pooling in my hand sobered me up in an instant.

Eyes wide, I glanced at Adam, trying to ignore my entire body shaking. "You...you broke my nose!"

He shoved me out of the doorway, not even flinching as I hit the cold earth. "Not so much of a milf now, are we?"