Rachel was happy for hours – appreciating the lack of snow as it allowed her to play outside without wearing half her wardrobe to keep the chill out. Her grandfather graciously took James and went to sit on the porch and 'supervise', leaving Mark and Susan to clean up breakfast.

"So…" she hoisted herself up so she sat on the edge of the kitchen bench top.

"So…" Mark smiled and took her hands, standing in front of her. "Dishes, or…"

She laughed, which was exactly what he'd wanted. "Or…" she lifted his hands to her lips, closing her eyes each moment her lips touched his hands.

Her hands slipped down his chest as he touched her face adoringly, stopping only moments before he kissed her, holding her eyes captive in his own.

"What?" she asked of his hesitation.

He shook his head. "You're incredible."

She leant in and kissed him, her hands slipping around his waist, pulling him closer desperately.

The broke apart a minute later, laughing, realising they were easily going to get carried away.

Mark lifted her down from the bench top but didn't let her go. She, too, held him tight.

"Don't let go." She whispered, her eyes shut in attempt to heighten her other senses. She didn't want to miss a thing. The touch of his skin, the warmth of his scent, the sound of his breathing with each rise of his chest against hers, and then there was the taste – but she held back.

"This is more than I ever thought…" he needn't finish the sentence.

"Me either." She held tighter. "Don't let me mess this up."

He heard the tears in the back of her throat and hoped they wouldn't trigger his own. He pulled back to look at her and smiled into her eyes. "If we mess this up we'll mess it up together."

She smiled, "and then we can fix it together."

He nodded. "I'll never let you go again." The vulnerability was exhilarating.

"Oh Mark." She ran her hand down his face and neck, letting her fingertips rest on his chest, just above his heart. "I don't deserve this. But I promise," she shook her head, swallowing tears, and let her palm rest on his chest, "I'll be careful with your heart."

"Thank you." He covered her hand with his own, his voice barely audible.

He was leaning in to kiss her again when his father knocked redundantly on the kitchen doorframe and stood on the threshold with James in his arms.

"This one's hungry."

"Oh." Susan turned, blushing, "thanks." She took James from Mark's father, "I'll be right back."

"How those dishes coming along?" Mark's father asked as Susan left the room.

Mark didn't answer.

"So I take it you two are back on?"

"Ah, yeah." Mark nodded as a grin spread over his face. His dad smiled and he laughed, joy overflowing unexpectedly. "I thought I'd lost her."

"she's a very lucky woman."

"Dad…"

"No, let me say it. I mean I love her to bits – she's brilliant and funny and beautiful as ever. I could ask nothing more for you. But you… I'm proud of you. This whole," he waved his hands around a little, "situation could never be easy and you didn't run away. You really, you know, love your family – and you did so even when you got nothing in return – which is somehow more meaningful, so… yeah."

"Thank you dad."

"No, no…" he stepped forward and hugged his son.