Don’t worry. The only skeletons in my closet belong to the mice. — John Marrs

“I am worth more than this, Mark,” she snapped. “And if that doesn’t sink into your head pretty bloody soon, it’s going to be too late.”

“Don’t be like that, mate. After all, it all turned out okay in the end, right?”

If by okay, he meant a dead fiancée, a child that wasn’t his and his soul mate lost forever on the other side of the world, then yeah, he was great, Nick thought bitterly.

She’d been happier with him than she had ever thought imaginable, but only now she understood it wasn’t because their DNA had dictated it, but because she’d opened herself up to the concept of love.