Theo
I’m hunched over thekitchen table, half-drunk coffee at my side, trying to help Lucy with her writing. She’s focused like a little artist with a grand vision—only her “masterpieces” look like scribbled attempts at something very abstract. But to her, they’re perfect, and that’s all that matters.
“You’re doing great, Ladybug,” I say, guiding her tiny hand to get the wobbly letter A a bit smoother.
“Look, Daddy! So pretty!” she says, holding it up proudly. It’s more like a triangle with a line in the middle, but I’m not about to crush her spirit. “I’m a master!”
“Perfect. Soon you won’t need me to help you anymore,” I grin, ruffling her hair. “Now try a D. Remember, it’s like a big curve, then a straight line down.”
Lucy’s so intent on her work that she doesn’t notice me sneak a glance at my phone sitting beside me. The screen lights up, and I see a text from Ivy.
My heart skips a beat before I even read it. I grab my phone, fingers shaking just slightly as I unlock it.
The message is short. Simple.
Ivy
Turns out I’m free Friday at 7.
No trousers with a vendetta this time.
Love to have dinner with my dorky Theo.
(Preferably in jeans.)
x
I feel a strange mix of relief and something else, something deeper—hope, maybe.My dorky Theo.I clutch the phone tightly. She is willing to give us another chance. I want to scream it from the hills—well, in the streets of Shoreditch more like.
Lucy looks up, noticing the sudden change in my expression. “What’s wrong, Daddy?” she asks, her little face scrunched with concern.
I force a smile, slipping the phone back into my pocket. “Nothing, Lu. Just... something good.”
Her face lights up, clearly not needing any further explanation. “Is it ice cream?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “No ice cream just yet, but I’ll tell you what. Let’s finish up these letters, and then maybe we’ll see about that later, yeah?”
Lucy’s grin spreads across her face as she gets back to her work, and I take a moment to breathe before texting my brothers.
“Lu, how about a sleepover at Uncle Jasper or Uncle Geoff on Friday?” I ask.
“Uncle Geoff. He dresses up as a princess with me,” she giggles.
“Sounds like a plan,” I laugh. Now I just need to come up with a plan on what Ivy and I can do, that is us.
Shifting the shopping bag from my right to my left, where I’m already juggling a second tote and what feels like a small corner shop's backroom, I jab the intercom.
“Coming,” Ivy says.
“No, wait—let me up,” I blurt, already regretting not explaining this in advance.
A beat of silence crackles back.
“Why?” Suspicion. Deserved.
“Just let me up, Ivy.” I try to laugh, keep it light.
Another pause, then the door buzzes open. I exhale through the nerves I didn’t realise I’d been holding in.
