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Uniform checks.

Hair plait attempt (YouTube tutorial saved).

“I’ve got it,” he says simply. No performance. No martyrdom. Just partnership. And something inside me settles. Not because I won’t worry. I will. Not because I won’t miss them. I will. But because I finally believe we’re not fragile. We’re flexible. And that’s stronger.

I open my inbox again. The email is still there. Still real. Still waiting. My phone buzzes.

Hannah:Have you said yes yet.

Clara:We’re not above emotional blackmail.

Lou:I will babysit when you get back and demand fashion gossip.

Abigail:If you don’t go I’m removing you from this chat.

I laugh. And for the first time since opening that email, the fear shifts. Because a spark has lit inside me. It feels like I’m getting myself back. All of me.

Not just wearing makeup.

Not just managing to have a poo without an audience.

Every single part that had blurred in the fog of parenthood.

I glance down at the contact card. My editor.

I type:

I’d love to confirm my availability.

I hover. Then I press send. And instead of panic, I feel pride. A steady, grounded kind. I glance at Dan’s text from earlier.

Dan:Proud of you already.

I didn’t think it was possible to love him more than I already did. But this version of him? This steady, secure, self-awareman? He’s my favourite. And for the first time in a long time, ambition doesn’t feel like a threat to us. It feels like part of us. And I just know. We’re going to be okay.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

DAN

The first morning she’s gone, I wake up reaching for her.

My hand slides across cold sheets.

Empty.

I keep my eyes closed for a second, hoping maybe she’s in the bathroom. Maybe she’s already downstairs making coffee.

Nothing. The house is still.

No Emma padding down the hallway in slippers.