4 - TESSA

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I MUST HAVE FALLEN asleep at some point, because when I wake, Mum is sitting next to me and I can smell something delicious coming from upstairs.

A smile immediately erupts onto my face as my eyes come into focus, and I wrap my arms gently around her, burying my face into the scarf she's wearing around her neck as she strokes a comforting hand over my hair.

I don't know how long we stay like this, but when she pulls away, she strokes a thumb over my tear-streaked cheeks and beams back at me.

"How is it that you've grown more beautiful since I last saw you?" she asks.

I half laugh as a sob chokes out. I can't look that attractive right now... Everyone knows I'm the world's ugliest crier. However I smile anyway, because I am so happy to see her, and to see her here in front of me and not through a screen.

I look down at her, wiping at my own cheeks as she rubs a hand over her bulging belly.

"Mum, you're practically glowing!" I hug her again. "And I've missed you so much."

She sighs and looks into my eyes as she strokes a soft hand over my hair again before resting her hand on my cheek. I lean my head into it and give her the strongest smile I can muster.

"Me too, kiddo. Me too."

We both wipe at tears as we laugh, just as another strong whiff of ham and garlic comes floating down the stairs.

"Is that Mark cooking upstairs?" I ask, knowing it is.

"It sure is." She nods and laughs. "Why don't you go and see if he needs a hand." She pats my knee. "I just need to talk to your dad," she says quietly, gesturing to his sleeping frame next to me.

I give her another smile as I nod, hugging her one final time before I head up the stairs towards the smell that's making my mouth water. When I round the corner to kitchen, Mark is chopping onions, trying to contend with weeping eyes.

He sees me and waves with hand holding the knife before wiping at his eyes with the crook of his elbow. "I always get emotional when chopping onions," he jokes, his voice artfully cracking before he abandons them for a moment and puts an arm around me, pulling me close.

"They are emotion-inducing little buggers," I giggle as he lets me go. "Do you need a hand with anything?" I offer.

"I hoped you'd ask that. Can you start on the roasted veg? All the stuff's in that bag there."

He gestures with his head to a large red bag near the fridge and I open it to find enough vegetables to feed a small army.

For an hour or so, we talk in the kitchen, moving around each other as the dinner moves towards its final stages. I haven't really cooked with him for ages, not since Matt and I first met him, but he has this way of making me feel at ease, and right now it's all I need when we have an emotional week ahead of us.

Every ten minutes, I crouch down to take a look at the meat in the oven, torturing myself as I watch it bubble nicely, with a mouth-wateringly delicious-looking slab of crackling on the top.

"How's it looking?" Mark asks, chopping up the last of the strawberries for our dessert.

I push up on my knees and make a contended face. "So good. How long's it got left?"

He checks his watch. "Maybe about an hour? Not too long."

I nod before jumping up on the kitchen island, watching him cut strawberries so fast his hands are almost moving in a blur.

"So Mark... how do you feel about becoming a dad?" I ask, accepting the small bowl of strawberries he offers me.

When he turns to face me, he's beaming from ear to ear and there's a brightness in his eyes that I'd never really noticed before. He's excited - as he should be - and he hasn't been able to stop smiling since I got here.

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