Yawning, I make my way upstairs to bed, ready for an early night. ‘Night then,’ I say to Charlie* when I bump into him on the landing. ‘Oh, night,’ he replies, glancing up from his phone. He heads off to his bedroom while I go to mine. You’re probably thinking Charlie is my son, but he is, in fact, my partner of 18 years, and we have been sleeping separately for most of that time.
I met Charlie in a nightclub in 2005 when I was 26 and he was 30, and was immediately attracted to him. He’s tall, muscular, with dirty blond hair and brown eyes – a winning combination.
Our first date at a local bar was great, the only downside was our goodnight kiss – it was horrible and