The moonlight doesn't make it any better, she thought that looking at herself in the dark might make it seem better, but it doesn't. She's still the same, dark or light, day or night. It doesn't make a difference, because it will always be there. The darkness only aids the thoughts that are racing the way through her head, imagining all sorts of different scenarios. She knows its hormones, and a serious lack of confidence. It's nothing more than that, most woman go through this, the same thoughts plaguing their minds, but that doesn't help.

It's not just one thing, she wish she could say its because if the stretchmarks, but it isn't. If anything, the stretchmarks were a thing of pride for her, saying look I carried a baby. I have a beautiful, healthy, little baby girl. That's, possibly, the only thing she likes.

She can't drink, she knows that, but if she could she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop. It's just everything. Maybe she's spending too much time in the flat, it's too small for her, Peter, Delilah and Simon to visit. There just isn't the room, everything is crammed up and maybe that's making it worse, standing their next to objects, highlighting how she's changed, goading her. Provoking her into a reaction, what reaction it is, she isn't sure yet.

She had known her body would be different; she'd grown a six-pound baby. That's like a really big bag of penne pasta from Sainsbury's. A little over 3KG. Yet, compared to other babies she was small. So, maybe she shouldn't feel as bad as someone with a bigger baby, bouncing back quicker. Except she hasn't.

Her libido is down, she's tired and she just can't bring herself to sleep with him. That fosters the idea that he will run off with someone else. Just like he did last time.

She knows that she can't hit him with that, but in nights like this, it plays strongly on her mind. He's seen her at her worst, she knows that Peter loves her. She's heard the, painful, stories of the depth of her psychosis, where Peter started drinking. He cares about her, but that doesn't stop that niggling feeling there. She just doesn't want to open a can of worms.

What if he does tell her that he doesn't love her anymore? She can barely keep her eyes open, some days, how is she supposed to sleep with him? She trusts him, but her hormone filled body tells her that she needs to be on guard. She'd know. She'd know all the signs, this time. She would be an unsuspecting victim of his. Not now her little girl was on the firing line, she was the one set to have her heartbroken.

She'd tried to muster up the desire that she had pre-pregnancy. Trying to ignite that flame, but one of them would always fall asleep before it got to that stage and she has so many hang-ups now, stupid things, but to her they seem the world, it is the biggest deal in the world. Or, her world.

She knew it wouldn't be straight away, but twenty weeks is a long time. Recovery from anything, it takes a long time. She should have done something. All the women in the magazines, the ones that Peter specifically told her not to buy. He cited it as shit, but they both knew that it was something else, for the preservation of herself, so she didn't compare herself to these women. Didn't stop her, though. There was such a thing as the internet.

She knew his logic was that the woman she was comparing herself too were younger. Another sore point, she was going to be an OAP when her baby finished school, or near enough. But he told her that it wouldn't have an impact on ability as a mum.

She wasn't, believe it or not, she was looking at women like Halle Berry, Janet Jackson and Cameron Diaz. All successful women in their own right, having babies later on in life. Just like her, except she wasn't them. She wasn't successful, not anymore, she was recovering from psychosis and she had issues with alcohol. She wasn't like them. She was a mess.

The baby in her arms starts to fuss, alerting her to the fact, she isn't alone. She has some purpose, even if she is shit. She knows if she doesn't go to sleep now, she won't sleep. And she is so desperately tired. She really is, that doesn't help with her self-esteem. Not one bit.

As she re-enters the room, baby in tow, she can't help but smile at her partner, snoring away. Even if he is taking up most of the bed. She gently pushes him to one side, once she's put Delilah down, not a peep out of her.

She knows how lucky she is with her; with the way she behaves. She sleeps well, she doesn't scream all the time. Not like Gemma's quads. Not that it's a competition. She knows if it was, Gemma's quads would win Jenny's heart, but her baby has already stolen Johnny's. Her partner murmurs something incoherent, as she climbs into bed with him, pulling her into his arms. Maybe it's a sub-conscious reaction? Maybe he knows she needs the contact. Either way, it's nice.

-CS-

'You okay?' The man asks, coming into the kitchen area, with the baby on his shoulder as she makes toast.

'Mm.'

'Go on, tell me. You were fidgeting all night.'

'Sorry.'

'I'm not asking for an apology.' He tells her, his free hand gently rubbing their daughters back, as she just lies there. 'You can tell me anything.' She deliberates for a moment, before shaking her head. It's his day off, she doesn't want to ruin it. Unfortunately, he doesn't leave it.

'It's stupid.' She eventually relents, it really is. She knows it and Peter will just laugh or tell her she's being stupid.

'No, it's not.' He tells her, 'you're the mother of my daughter, my partner. I care.' She sighs, pushing around the cereal in the bowl. The cereal that is making her feel sick. 'Let me put her in the bouncer and I'll be right over.' She watches him as he puts her down with such care and precision, she wished her mum was like that. Like she cared, instead of being foisted from pillar to post. She had wanted someone that cared.

And she'd had in, in some forms. She didn't mean just partners; her relationships were always dysfunctional. Even with Peter. Scrap that, especially with Peter. She knew Johnny cared; it had taken him 40 years to admit it. Kate cared, but there would always be Rana.

Then there was Michelle. Michelle cared and that was all she had needed. In the darkest depths of her life, the rape, the miscarriage, Aidan, Liam and Paul. Just a number of times she'd supported her and just been there. She had her, but then, suddenly, she wasn't, and she felt beyond alone. She missed her best friend, more than she could have ever imagined. But she couldn't visit her, and she couldn't as she was worried it would upset her too much.

She had Hayley and Roy. Except, Hayley wasn't there anymore. So, she just had Roy. Although, she had felt a bit hurt, when Nina came along. An off the cuff comment about her being his only family, that really did hurt her feelings. It shouldn't have done, but it did. It was comments like this, that she seemed to have been saving up. Saving up for a moment like this, where she can't cope, and it all comes out. Making her feel even more alone and even worse about herself. She knew he hadn't meant it and she was being overly sensitive. But, still.

'You're going to tell me what's wrong?' She just shrugs. 'Carla.'

'It's me.' She eventually admits, tears pooling her eyes. 'My baby was born 4 months ago yet look at me.'

'What's wrong with you?'

'You wouldn't get it.'

'Try me.' She sighs, leaning back a bit.

'I'm me. When we first got together, Peter, I was hot, I had a personality. We were in love. Then we got married and that led to you cheating.' She pauses, looking at his downcast face, 'I'm not saying this to hurt you, I promise you I'm not. I'm just telling you how I feel.'

'Go on.'

'Even on my wedding day, there was someone better. The day where we promised each other that we'll love one another unconditionally, I meant it. But even know, I feel stupid. Yes, I was a drunken mess. Our lives were messy, with Si, with my brother.' She can't even bare to say his name, like it's poison and she'll die if she says it. Nearly seven years on, it still hurt. The betrayal and how he was so ready to ruin her life all those years ago. Payback, she'd presumed. 'Then I got pregnant, going down that particular lane, it hurts. Still, I was younger. My body jumped back quickly; I was still early enough into the pregnancy that it didn't wreck my body.' She takes a deep breath, her eyes burning her. He knows she can't help it, and he needs to listen to this. It's not easy though. 'Look at me, I still haven't lost my baby weight. I should have done, by now. My boobs are too big, and they hurt all the time, my hips have widened, and I don't like that. I'm in pain and we're not having sex, I know that, and I'm worried you'll leave me. I don't know if I can cope.' She pauses, feeling the hot tear scald her cheek, wishing it would go away. 'I don't feel like me.' She chokes out, whispering it as if it was a secret. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

'The whole affair thing, I can only apologise for. It's the biggest regret I'll take to my grave, it was the worst decision I'd ever made, it was purely down to my ego and we both know I'll never be able to make it right.' He doesn't really know what to say, because he's in pain. Thinking about that period of his life, it physically hurts him. She remains silent, he knows she's in as much pain as he is. Except her grief was greater, it was his fault, and, to this day, he wasn't sure he had the right to grieve for their eldest little girl. He wasn't there for any of it, she miscarried on her own, not having a supportive partner there because he was too tied up in his own mess. He wasn't there for the scan, only ever seeing the baby once, when she had the cramps. He'd nearly drunk himself to death because of the mess he'd made. And there was no putting this right, they had found a way past it, but it would always be there, simmering until one day it would come to a head.

Except the explosion would be bigger than this, she's tired and this is where it all came from. It will, one day, cause huge ructions. He just has to be able to weather the storm that will come with it.

'My apology's will never mean anything; I'll never be able to express the regret I wish I was able too. But not having sex, you know it's fine.' He tells her, and he means it. The start of the relationship, the sex was important. They both knew this, 'I'm not going to seek comfort in anyone else.' A moment of silence falls over him, before he restarts. 'I love you and it's all down to you. We go at your pace, and that's okay. I don't mind waiting forever.' She looks up at him, wondering if he actually means it. 'I've watched you grow our baby; I've watched you birth her and look after her, doting on her. The amount of love, and respect, I've got for you is immeasurable' he confesses.

'You're so cheesy.'

'No, it's true. I do, it doesn't matter to me how you look or if we're still sleeping together, I'm more than content just to lie next to you, being able to give you a cuddle or tell you I love you. The years we spent apart, I missed you. I tried to seek solace somewhere else, but I couldn't. It's you.' He wipes a stray tear off her cheek, an intimate moment shared between the two of them, both of them suddenly as vulnerable as the baby a few meters away from them. 'Everything about you makes you that little bit hotter, I don't even notice it. You're far sexier with all that, because of everything that goes with it. All of this, it's because you love me enough to have a baby with me. You're doing a great job.'

'You mean it?'

'I do. If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have known. I mean that, love. I don't notice any of this, because I'm so blind sighted by you.'

'I read about how men find us less attractive after we've had a baby, how it makes us less sexy. I already feel so out of my depth, I can't do this, I can't do that. I didn't even know what a pelvic floor was until I got pregnant. It's the things they don't mention, they're brushed under the carpet. I thought I was prepared. I knew I wouldn't bounce back straight away, but I thought it would be better than this. Fuck, I'm halfway into another pregnancy.'

'You need to stop worrying, you do it at your own pace. We're just getting to grips with all this, new parents and all that. It's a new step, for both of us. It's going to take a while, but we'll get there. I promise. Is there anything I can do?' She shakes her head, as he comes around to give her a hug. 'I love you too much, to let you go.' He whispers in her ear, stroking the back of her head gently, 'when we're old we'll be at Blackpool sitting on the beach and we'll be laughing. Delilah will be with us, and Si, and we won't remember this. You won't remember how you feel because you'll be so happy. Well be married, we'll have done it properly this time. I'll propose and we'll have a wedding with Delilah as your flower girl. We're a family and your going to talk to me anytime you feel sad, or anytime you feel like this, or when you need a pick me up. I'm going to be the best husband to you. We'll have a house and a dog and go on beach holidays; I can't really see you doing camping.' He gets a laugh out of her, making him smile. 'We'll be a family, with 1.9 children.'

'Whose the point nine?' She whispers, kissing his cheek. 'I'm not going through this again.'

'Si, he's moved out, hasn't he? I'm not asking you too, either.' He promises, 'you've given me the best gift ever and I'm not sure, even I, could handle another one. I'm tired too, you do all the hard work, but I don't really have the energy for sex some days. A baby, it's a big leap.' She muses that the 0.9 could have been their daughter that never came to be, but Simon seemed good too. She didn't know whether she could count her.

'No?' He shakes his head; it had been a stressful nine months and he couldn't put her through it again. Not when they didn't need too, not when they were happy.

'I love our little family, we're cosy. I'm going to try so hard to make you feel better. It's my job.' He adds.

'Just talking, it makes me feel better. I think I'm just having a wobble; I'll be fine next week. It's everything, it all seems full on. I know I should be counting my lucky stars, but I can't help it. I am beyond happy, I love being a mum, I love you and I love her, but then I suddenly remember what I was like, when I was me, and I feel rubbish again. I try, so hard, but it sits there. I worry that you'll go off me and I won't be able to cope.'

'I promise, I'm going to-do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen. You watch, we'll be the happiest little family there ever was, people will be jealous. I love you so much.'

'I love you too, more than you can imagine.' She tells him, gripping him a little bit tighter as he reiterates how much he loves her.

A/N thoughts. This was suggested by Carlafanx- I loved the idea and I hope I've done it justice…