I smiled as my husband, David, backed into the bedroom, carrying two cups of tea. Our 12-year-old son, Jay, was in tow and the pair climbed under the covers with me. ‘Sleep well?’ I beamed at David. ‘I did,’ he grinned back, kissing my cheek. ‘You?’
In fact, I hadn’t stopped smiling since David, now 48, and I moved in together – which, given that we’ve been in a relationship for 20 years and married for eight – isn’t that long, really…
Five months, in fact.
Yep, that’s right. Despite becoming a couple, having a child and tying the knot, we’d missed out what many people regard as being a huge part of a relationship – moving in together.
I met David in 2001, when I worked as a receptionist…
