Walking into the kitchen, I smiled at my hubby Blake, now 33.
‘Morning, love,’ I said.
‘How was work?’
It was early 2019, and Blake was working night shifts as a care assistant.
‘Not bad,’ Blake said. ‘I’m starving, though!’
Every morning, he came home from work ravenous for a fry up.
I watched him plate up four pieces of white bread, bacon, eggs and sausages, and dive in.
Blake and I had been married for 10 years, and we had two children Toby, now six, and Sophie, now five.
The kids always ate separate, healthy meals to us.
Whilst my weight has always been a steady 12st, Blake has always been bigger.
At 23st, with a 40-inch waist, Blake loved any greasy food that would fill him up.
He’d…