I can feel Liam’s eyes on me as I kneel down in front of the fridge and pull out ingredients for dinner. I glance over my shoulder and find him watching me with a smile, one that makes me feel flustered and almost causes me to drop the food I’m holding. His expression is a mix of desire and pride. I smile at him. ‘What?’ I ask, my cheeks burning.

‘Nothing,’ he grins. ‘Can’t a man admire his wife?’

I flush even redder. I’m still getting used to him calling me his wife. It feels so strange.

‘It’s just nice to hear you humming,’ he remarks.

I hadn’t noticed that I was, and the realisation makes me startle and then smile as I put the garlic, scallops and prosciutto onto the counter.

‘What are you making?’ Liam asks, coming closer and wrapping his arms around my waist.

‘I thought I’d do fettucine with seared scallops and prosciutto,’ I tell him, unwrapping the scallops. ‘We need to eat these first, before they go off.’

He nods, resting his chin on my shoulder. ‘Sounds wonderful. Can I do anything to help?’

I shake my head. ‘All under control,’ I say as I extricate myself to fill a pan with water.

Liam opens a bottle of red wine and pours himself a glass. He offers me a glass of white, but I turn it down. I’m not meant to mix alcohol with my medication. He sips his wine as he leans against the counter, watching me as I move around the kitchen. He likes watching me cook. He says it’s an education, because he can’t so much as boil an egg, and he finds it sexy.

I’m not sure how sexy preparing scallops is, but I take the knife he offers me from the drawer and start cleaning the scallops and wrapping them in prosciutto slices. My stomach fights nausea as I do, and I have to grit my teeth against the swell of it rising up my throat. I still don’t feel hungry, despite the walk earlier and all the fresh air.