The way I see it, it’s my job to show her that her welfare and that of her daughter are entwined. That what’s good for Tabby will also be good for her.

It’s a tall order.

Oh, shit. She’s here, and she’s wearing that white sleeveless dress I love so much. I watch like a lovesick fool as she dumps her bag and indulges in a big, messy hug with Elaine. Yeah, yeah. I’m glad Elaine’s in her corner, but I would really like her to just get her arse in here and come give me some attention. Elaine didn’t drop everything and fly out to the US to be with her, after all.

Elaine says something, and Marlowe nods effusively and squeezes her arm before finally, finally turning towards my office. I scoot my chair back in a panic and go to greet her, but I’m not sure what to do with my arms. I shove my hands in my pockets, finding my fidget toy.

We took a daytime flight home on my jet a couple of days ago, having decided together that it would be less exhausting for Tabs than a red-eye. Look at us making joint parenting decisions! It was a great call, affording the three of us some quality time together and giving Tabby one hell of a kick. I insisted Marlowe take yesterday off to get her and Tabby back on London time. I, too, took a day for myself and spent most of it in the gym. Being in the office without Marlowe is no fun at all.

‘Hi,’ she says from the doorway. She looks exactly like she always looks at work—glossy and gorgeous and like every CEO’s wet dream—and not at all like how she’s looked this past week. I feel extremely conflicted. On the one hand, I could stare at Work Marlowe all day long. On the other, I now know that she uses her workplace appearance as a type of armour, shielding the real her.

I had a week with Real Marlowe, all messy buns and pale-faced exhaustion and soft, cheap clothing. I know how it feels to be with her in a way that’s raw and vulnerable and human, and I don’t know if I’m ready for us to be Work Barbie and Work Ken again. I really don’t.

‘Hey.’ I stop a few paces in front of her. ‘You look, um, rested. How’s Tabs?’

Her lovely face softens at the mention of her little girl. ‘She’s pretty good. Still talking about the jet.’ She smiles.

‘It must have been hard leaving her this morning.’