Sophie wrinkled her nose. “Did you do something bad?”
I stifled a laugh. “Good question, Soph.”
Dan looked wounded. “Can’t a man just bring his wife flowers?”
Oscar piped up, “Are you saying sorry? You only buy flowers when you’re in trouble. Remember when you crashed the car into the bins?”
Dan sighed. “Not helping, guys.”
I took the flowers, smiling. “They’re lovely. A bit dramatic, but lovely.”
He beamed. “See? I can be romantic.”
Then Ruby sneezed directly on them.
We both burst out laughing.
The next few days were a blur of domestic chaos. School runs, tantrums, and a suspicious smell in the fridge that no one could locate but everyone blamed on each other.
One morning, as I was trying to wrestle Ruby into her coat, Sophie stood in the doorway, hands on hips, and announced, “Mummy, I told Mrs. Hargreaves you were always late because Daddy makes you tired.”
I froze mid-zip. “I’m sorry, what?”
Dan, from the kitchen: “WHAT?”
Sophie shrugged innocently. “She said we should be on time, and I said, ‘Mummy’s tired because Daddy keeps her up all night.’”
Dan choked on his toast.
I dropped Ruby’s sleeve and turned slowly. “Sophie, sweetheart, why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true! You said you were tired and Daddy winked.”
Dan coughed, red-faced. “That was a different kind of tired, Sophie.”
She frowned. “What kind?”
“Homework tired,” I said quickly. “Daddy helps me with… grown-up homework.”
Dan mouthed, “Smooth.”
It was way too early in the morning to be having discussions about what exactly grown-up homework entailed.
“Oh by the way” Dan said with a proud grin on his face “I booked us a date night.”
I froze, midway through putting Ruby’s shoes on “You what?”
He grinned. “A proper one. No kids, no interruptions. Saturday night. Hannah said she’ll take the kids overnight... Again”
For a second, I just stared at him. “You… organised childcare?”
He looked offended. “I’m capable of making a phone call.”
“Last time you tried, you ordered a pizza from the dentist.”
He ignored me. “It’s all sorted. Dinner at that little Italian place we love.”
And just like that, something flickered inside me again. That spark. That memory of when we used to laugh until we cried over cheap wine and bad desserts.
