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Nicole McKee was living the Kiwi dream.������

At 23, she'd chalked up experience working in a law firm, got engaged, and was ready to give birth to a baby girl.������

"I had the cool family life, with the house, the fence, the man, and the dog", she laughs.������

Now a Member of Parliament, and third on the Act Party's list, McKee's quickly become adept at the loud-mouthed, rough and tumble of Parliament's debating chamber.������

But in an emotional interview with����һ�ǿ�����talk ZB, her speech starts to slow and body stiffen.������

"We were waiting at the train station, watching fire engines and ambulances go past... wondering what had happened."������

"Because he didn't turn up, we had a feeling it was him."������

“He drove fast. It was his fault. But��we weren't expecting the mess that we saw.”������

It's the first time McKee's spoken at length about the crash that claimed her fiancé's life.������

She reveals they'd been together since the age of 15, and he proposed just days before he died.������

"His name was Kane."������

A week later, and three years after she was told it would be a struggle to get pregnant, McKee gave birth to her first child, who she calls an "angel."������

But that too, was traumatic, as she grappled with a reality that had turned her life upside down.������

"I was meant to have a home birth, and not only had I lost my man.... but [then] my baby was also breech", she says.������

McKee says she was determined to stay awake and give birth, refusing pain relief for 38 hours.������

"My proudest moment is January the 13th, 1997, being able to push out my daughter with��her left��foot first and come out the other side."��������

Fast forward to the present day, and the pro-gun, free speech advocate is still adjusting to the halls of power.������

Before the 2020 election, she cut a controversial figure, pushing against the Government's firearms reforms after the Christchurch terrorist attack.������

It was then that she met Act leader David Seymour, and with the party's surge at the polls, made it into Parliament.������

"I'm surprised I'm here... to be honest with you, I didn't actually think that I would be capable of doing some of the things that we're doing."����

As she says these words, a defiance emerges across McKee's face, almost like she's discovering her newfound self-confidence in real time.������

“But I am more than capable.”������

She’s now married, and has four children - three with her current husband.������

McKee��says she��feels “lucky”, although��memories of her past don’t go away easily.��������

“When you lose someone that's really close to you, you go through these different stages, you have anger, you have hurt, you have hate, but I think by the time you get to nearly fifty... all of that gets pushed aside”, she says.������

“I'm starting to get a bit teary-eyed because I'm just thinking of all the really good times that we had. I can't even remember arguing with him.”������

“I miss his laughter.”������

Asked what she would tell a 21-year-old Nicole McKee, she doesn’t skip a beat.������

“Have no regrets... it’s okay to make mistakes”, she says.������

McKee tells me she lives by that.������

“[Regrets?] I have none.”������