After a few hours of trying to not make myself worry about Carter, he turns up just in time for lunch, shopping bags in hand. If he's going to use that excuse on me, it's not going to work.
"Where were you?" I ask, "I've been worried sick."
He sits down beside me at the table where I'm doing a crossword and gives me a quick peck on the kiss. "I'm sorry. I had to meet up with Jeff for a quick meeting."
Of course. Work on a Saturday. I really wish he'd separate work from pleasure.
"But I'm making up for it, honey." He takes a meal deal from M&S out the shopping bags.
"So you decided to cook a ready meal?" I sigh, "At least we're only dining for £10, eh? Saves a fortune."
I get up, ripping myself from his grip. Why did I think for a second he'd actually make it up to me? Carter cooking... I'll die of shock if that ever happens.
"Bella, please look at me, I'm sorry..." He says, pulling on my arm gently.
I hate it when he uses that nickname on me when I'm angry, because he knows it helps me to give in to him. Why can't I hold a grudge like most people?
"What?" I turn to him, my eyes burning into his.
"C'mon, let's enjoy this evening together. I bought the meal, we can ship the kids off to their friends, and enjoy the night together."
I laugh. "Shipping off the kids sounds like a great idea."
"I know, doesn't it?" He agrees, slipping an arm round my waist.
I reach up on my tiptoes to press my lips to his, before twisting on my heel and making my way upstairs.
A smile stains my mouth for the rest of the afternoon.