As my eyes opened, my bedroom filled with light and I saw my boyfriend standing before me, holding a plate.
‘What's this?’ I beamed.
‘Breakfast in bed,’ he said.
Pete, then 34, handed me the fluffy French toast with syrup, fruit and a dusting of sugar.
He'd woken up first thing and bought all the ingredients.
How lucky can you get? I thought, tucking in.
My heart and mind raced with shock and revulsion It was 2017, and Pete and I had been dating for a year since meeting online.
I was a single mum to Ollie, then 12, and Pete had swept me off my feet.
He owned a company doing camper-van conversions.
He was a big chap but he was a gentle giant, so kind and attentive.
‘You…
