That incredible night was three weeks ago now.

Three long weeks, I have had to reflect on that incredible night.

What with Orla and Kendra, it did get a little dodgy at times, but how that night ultimately ended, is all that has kept me from not missing Mitch too much. Yeah yeah, I know...I have just said the M word, haven't I?

I have honestly never known what it was like to miss someone, but now, I am becoming more and more familiar with it. It's an ache. An heavy and unwavering ache. Mitch and I haven't physically been together for all of those three weeks, so that ache is beginning to feel a whole lot achier just lately.

Is it too soon to feel such an ache?

I couldn't care less even if it is.

It's my ache.

My missing of Mitch.

I'm not actually thinking about whether it's right or wrong to feel it—I just know that I am.

After that incredible night together, something has changed—me, Mitch, us, home, work, the universe—it all feels different.

A rather lovely different.

A sometimes scary different.

Lovely, just because it absolutely is lovely.

Scary, because it really is.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to start deeply caring for Mitch. Mr Mega Famous himself, has indeed done that. I'm caring about him. I'm missing him. All new feelings that he's left me to grapple with alone. Okay, that's not entirely true. We probably have some form of communication with one another, at least twice a day, but I miss the physicality of us...I miss the realness of his touch.

Things have progressed fast between us, I know, but comfortably fast. Without dropping the L word bomb, I do feel like we should be together. With Mitch, I feel I'm with who I should be with right now. From Mitch himself, I am picking up that he feels like he now has a sense of belonging with me. And that's something that I truly can relate to. I have never wanted or needed, to belong. I am young. Driven. My career has always been my one and only priority. The need to belong has not exactly been at the top of my life list. But something has already changed, and I'm sure there are more changes yet to come. All those times that Mitch made love to me on that incredible night—from the slow and sensuous to the playful and deep—I knew that my priorities were about to excitingly change.

I knew then, that we were no longer just a wonderful fling.

Now, I think we are somewhere between the beginnings of a relationship and long-lasting commitment.

Crazy, right?

Exciting crazy?

Whatever is happening and wherever we are on the relationship spectrum, I just can't wait to see Mitch again. What with my missing of him and Hetty's due date fast approaching, I seem to be in a constant emotional state of high alert.

What do you do when you are missing your very famous boyfriend so much and your best friend is becoming an hybrid hippo (most certainly her words, not mine)....seriously, what do I do?

"Right love, first we find all of the bits that have straight edges...they're the outer parts of the picture. Then, we put all of the sky coloured pieces to one side, and the ground looking pieces to the other...then we are ready to try and join some pieces together." Mum jovially tells me.

That's right, people, I am doing a jigsaw puzzle with my mum.

My way of trying to rid myself of some famous boyfriend and pregnant best friend anxiety. Current Sunday status: living the dream.

"I probably haven't done a jigsaw since I was at nursery." I admit to mum, busily trying to find all of the scattered blue pieces.

"Well, this is only a thousand piece puzzle, it can't be any harder than when you used to build and paint your Warhammer miniatures." Mum replies with a knowing smile.

Agreeing, I nod and smile at the same time. "True." Mum has already managed to join some puzzle pieces together, so the competitive streak within me becomes focused on doing the very same, so I don't say anything more.

"How's Hetty?" Mum asks with a wondering tone to her voice, while she keenly has her eye on some earthy-coloured pieces. "She must be about to drop, isn't she?"

That term somewhat amuses me. I'm pretty darn sure that most babies do not just 'drop' from where they have been for the last nine months. Still very focused on the jigsaw, I begin talking to mum in a rather preoccupied manner. "Her due date is in four days, and she's apparently been having a lot of those Braxton Hicks things, so Will is very much on tenterhooks at the moment." With great satisfaction, I smile across to mum, because I have just joined a small cluster of sky pieces together.

Mum frowns a little with thoughtful understanding. "Those Braxton Hicks are nature's way of getting her ready for the real thing, love. She'll know when her real contractions have started, that's for sure." Again, mum successfully joins some pieces together.

"When I saw Hetty the other day, she and Will were discussing their birth plan again. They are hoping to have a water birth, but they were also talking about what they would do if the labour doesn't go according to plan. When their conversation moved onto things like 'C section, epidural and forceps delivery', I actually sat there wondering why women put themselves through it all...sounds like an acceptable form of torture to me." I'm actually grimacing now at the memory of that cringeworthy birth plan conversation.

Gently chuckling, mum sits taller opposite to me. "We do it because there is no greater thing than knowing that we have created our very own human being with the person that we love most in this world." Now, mum's face becomes shrouded in a nostalgic whimsicalness. "It's an incredible feeling, Rebecca. When I had you and once I was left all alone with you, I just kept staring at you in my arms. I couldn't believe that your dad and I had actually made you. Over and over, I would touch and count all of your fingers and toes, so completely amazed by them. It sounds so silly, but it really is the most wonderful of things to experience." She isn't looking at me or the jigsaw, she is momentarily too lost in her long ago memory of when I was born.

It's nice listening to it.

It's nice hearing how much my mum fell in love with the newborn me. But it's not nice enough for me to ever want to experience it myself. I feel like I have already heard far too much from Hetty and Will about pregnancy and birth...nope, still not appealing to me on any level.

"I think I'll just leave all the baby stuff to H, Mum, I'm only just getting my head around having a boyfriend." I joke, finding myself enjoying doing this puzzle far more than I first thought I would.

"Yes, how are things with you two?" Mum's eyes are now bright with a spark of shiny new inquisitiveness. "When we spoke last week, you mentioned that you both were feeling ready for everyone to know about you...it must be getting serious?" Mum is almost singing the word serious to me, the motherly glee so obviously there in her voice.

I haven't really told mum much. As always, our mother/daughter conversations don't usually go into too much emotional depth. Yet today, I don't know, I feel like a little emotional depth might ease this thrumming ache that's been pining away inside of me. "Things are going well. I know we haven't been seeing each other for very long, but we're committed to whatever is happening between us." It feels strange to be opening up to my mum, almost embarrassing, so my eyes remain down to where the jigsaw is on my parents dining room table.

But mum is watching me, with attentive, motherly interest, she is watching me. "It all sounds great, Rebecca. Myself and your dad can't wait to meet him."

With a quick little smile, I give mum the assurance of her meeting Mitch someday soon. "It won't be long until you do." Which is the truth, Mitch really is looking forward to meeting my parents.

Since he's been gone, we have talked about a great many things. Obviously, Hetty and Will's soon-to-be-here baby, him meeting my family and me meeting his, my invitation to stay at Hidden Hills with him, the press, how things might change for me once it's known we are together, but most of our conversations that we do have, tend to revolve around our mutual missing of one another. I think Mitch has the same ache that I have. It often echoes behind all that he says, and sometimes betrays the gladness of him seeing me upon the screen of his laptop.

I am now wanting to tell mum about that.

I am also wanting to tell her about how I can sometimes see that Mitch gets drained by his fame. His stardom has given to him some incredible experiences and a life full of luxury, but those experiences and that luxury, carry with them the constant dogma of always having to be wary of what he is doing or saying, where it's being said or done, and with whom. Mitch himself has told me that even when he's in the public eye, to a certain degree, he is still acting. It often tires him. Mentally depletes him. Now, he's in the thick of filming scenes in Snake River—physically pushing himself to the max, doing endless camera rehearsals, running through his lines while he's waiting around in his trailer for long periods of time—he's doing all of that while he's obviously missing me. So our more recent conversations have had Mitch sounding especially drained and tired about having to be the highly successful and prominent Mitch Heston. When I could see and hear just how fed up he was during our conversation late last night, and because of the Mitch-sized ache that has embedded itself inside of me—I just wanted to crawl inside the screen and hold him.

And all of that, needs to be emotionally aired. "I think we are both missing each other. Last night, he looked so fed up. I think the filming schedule is starting to wear him down...I just wish I could make him feel better, Mum." For once, I am talking to my mother about a relationship and my emotions.

Mum addresses me with a maternal firmness. "Rebecca, you just being there for him to talk to, will be making him feel better." What she says is said with such warm affirmation, that I wonder whether it could be true.

"I hope so." Is all I can quietly reply with.

I know that my caring about Mitch, is making me care about the whole of him.

His mind.

His heart.

His body.

His soul.

His welfare.

His reputation.

They are all beginning to feel important to me now.

The other day, Mitch casually had told me that he had slipped during a ravine stunt; now I find myself worrying about him filming all of his gruelling action scenes on location in Idaho.

God, this caring lark really can be such a worrying thing, can't it?

"He hurt his shoulder the other day, during one of his stunts." I solemnly announce to mum, trying to focus on the two pieces of the puzzle that I'm carefully putting together, rather than the possibility of Mitch seriously injuring himself during filming.

That's when dad wanders in, obviously fully aware of what I've just told mum. "I'm sure he's being well looked after over there, Rebecca. After all, Mitch is worth far more to them alive than he is dead."

"Jeff!" Mum reprimands dad with an unimpressed narrowing of her eyes. "Don't be so insensitive."

Dad lightly shrugs, a mature grin now gracing his face. "I'm just kidding around, Joanna...that boy will have so much safety around him, that even just a falling eyelash will have a risk assessment attached to it." Dad then squeezes the one side of my shoulder, his way of telling me that he really was only messing around with what he had just said. "Anyway, I'm just about to make a pot of coffee, who wants one?"

"I will, please." I tell dad, letting him know that he's forgiven with a small daughterly smile in his direction.

"Me too." Mum says, the unimpressed expression now almost gone from around her wifely eyes.

From the dining room, we can hear dad making the coffee in the kitchen. There's the gushing sound of the water from the tap. The chinking of our mugs being taken from out of the cupboard. The drawer being opened before being banged shut. Yup, dad is officially a noisy coffee maker. Shaking her head with her lips poised to smile, mum moans. "This is why I prefer your father to be up in his study. He is much quieter when he's working with numbers."

I'm now laughing, yet determined to do more of the jigsaw. "You wouldn't change him though, would you, Mum?"

Sighing gently before reaching over the table to join a piece of the puzzle with another, mum's pale green eyes become awash with nothing but affection. "No, I wouldn't." Dabbing the conjoined pieces with her fingertip, mum then looks up at me. "I'm going to give you some advice, my love."

"Okay." Is my answer, unusually ready to listen to my mother.

Inhaling, mum then gives me that advice. "That clever mind has professionally opened up many doors for you, but it has also sometimes closed your heart. For once, let your heart do the thinking for you and let your clever mind take a backseat for once. All that you are now feeling for Mitch is probably scary, just as it is wonderful, but don't let your mind talk you away from what your heart wants, Rebecca. Don't let it take you away from what you think you may want." Her hands now reaches for mine, holding them so delicately between her fingers. "Mitch is a very famous man, that alone is going to test the two of you, but even very famous men need and want love. If you are already finding yourself needing Mitch, I am pretty sure that he is already needing you." She now smiles, rubbing her thumbs over my knuckles. "I know you, Rebecca. You're my daughter. For you to be here, doing a jigsaw with me on a Sunday afternoon, talking to me about a man that I've not even yet met, means that your heart has already told that clever brain of yours to be quiet...and that's okay."

I'm not an emotional woman, but in my eyes, I feel the beginnings of stinging tears. In my throat, I feel a sore lump. "I miss him, Mum. I miss him and I'm afraid of what is to come."

Squeezing my fingers, mum is lovingly quick with her experienced response. "Of course you are missing him. Of course you are scared. Falling in love often feels like that."

Sitting straighter, my answer almost flees from the depths of my emotional throat. "I'm not falling in love with him. It's too soon. It's too—"

Mum shakes both of my hands that she still has a maternal hold of, forcing me to stop talking. "Ssh! That's your mind talking, Rebecca. For once, just let your heart do the talking. The beauty of time is that it doesn't have a beginning or an ending. I think love is much like time. It just happens. It just seems to exist. It shouldn't matter when love happens, only that it does happen. Time and love, they are both endless phenomenons. Neither one of them should have to be explained." Mum's wise green eyes then soften their motherly gaze on me. "I've not yet had the pleasure of meeting Mitch, but I already know how he's making my daughter feel. I can see it in your eyes, Rebecca, and I can hear it in your voice...you're falling for him."

The jigsaw no longer seems so important. Even the tears in my eyes no longer feel as important. My head just drops, needing some time to process all that my mum has just said to me. Keeping my breaths steady, I think. I think about me. I think about Mitch. How we happened to stumble into one another's lives again. How he showed up at my house and kissed me into wanting him. How we made love three weeks ago. How my thoughts have become so crowded full of him since that night. Oh God, maybe mum is right? Maybe I really am falling for Mitch?

Squeezing mum's fingers, I say nothing. I can't. Inside, I feel like my heart is within the eye of an amazing yet possibly catastrophic storm. If things work out with Mitch, things could be truly wonderful. If they don't, there's going to be an awful lot of emotional debris to clean up. All I can give to my mother is an accepting gaze. I accept that she could be right. I accept that I could be falling for Mitch. In my professional life, I have taken many calculated risks, and they have all paid off. Now, I'm about to take a calculated risk with my personal life...fingers crossed, that too pays off.