I wonder if I’ve done too much. I don’t know what I’m trying to prove. Of course I want to look good for Liam, but he loves me in the middle of the night with bedhead and baby vomit on my shirt just as much, if not more, than he loves me when I put in effort.

It still feels wrong sometimes that I get to be with a man like him. Athletic and strong, handsome as hell and I am just a mum who owns a flower shop. We shouldn’t fit, we shouldn’t work the way we do, but we do. My body fits right alongside his; when I need something he is willing to do whatever is needed to help and I do the same for him.

It takes a lot for me to let down my walls but when it comes to Liam I think they were less walls and are more like pieces of paper I tried to hide my heart behind. It didn’t work. And I am so glad it didn’t.

The street outside of Anders’s house is packed full of cars. I only realise as we pull up that I have never really looked at his house: it’s big. Of course it is, he is rich but it’s bigger than I thought it would be. I saw it at Thanksgiving but it looks so different covered in Christmas lights and holly garlands. It basically glows tonight, looking like something from a holiday film. I think it might be bigger than our place, that’s probably why he throws the team parties, well that and his captain status.

Liam has Charlotte strapped to his chest and she is napping softly against his black shirt. Jack is between us holding our hands and everyone watching can see our family unit at our strongest. Paparazzi are stood snapping pictures as people enter and Liam covers Charlotte’s face so she’s not blinded by the flashing lights.

Within seconds Cassie, with a newly styled black wavy bob, appears in front of us and Liam’s steps falters.

“You guys look great! Good job Liam!” She nods approvingly. I was expecting her usual put-together look, but this sexy confident Cassie is different to her professional presentation. Short and curvy but clearly confident if the short red sequin dress she has on is anything to go by. My eyes drift over her head, even in high black heels she is a lot shorter than me, and my eyes just happen to slip to Edge. That man can’t tear his eyes off the little vixen and when he realises he’s been caught I just drop my head to one side and try to bite back my laugh as his face turns a wonderful red.