“It was pretty good.” I replied, amazed that we had finished all the pancakes he had bought. I counted the empty boxes in front of us and worked out that he had eaten a whooping eight pancakes! I shook my head, wondering where he stored all his food – he looked lean and slightly muscled, no fat in sight. I felt slightly self-conscious. Here he was, after all these years, looking even better than ever. And then there was me – childbirth had left my body worse for wear – a flabby tummy and stretch marks on my thighs (thankfully these were hidden by my clothes). And looking after the girls singlehandedly meant that I had little time for myself – it had been months since my last haircut and my long blonde hair lay limp and lank. I wondered what Nathaniel thought of my appearance. I shook my head at myself. Why did it matter what Nathaniel thought about my appearance? I didn't want to care. But I couldn't help wondering if he was disappointed, if he had expected me to look more like my twenty-year-old self.

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