"Dada's something," he agrees, setting her down gently.
James toddles over to me, his arms outstretched. "Mama up."
I scoop him up, pressing a kiss to his dark hair. He smells like baby shampoo and the teething biscuit he demolished an hour ago. "Hi, buddy. You protecting your sister from the tower invasion?"
"Cawa bad," he informs me solemnly, even though he was laughing at her thirty seconds ago.
"Clara's learning," I correct gently. "Just like you."
Grant appears beside me, Clara perched on his hip. "David's coming by in an hour. I should probably shower before he gets here." He gestures to his banana-adorned state. "Unless you think this is a good look for me?"
"Very distinguished." I reach up to wipe a smear off his temple. "Very CEO."
His hand catches mine, holding it against his face for just a moment. The gesture is casual, unconscious almost, but it makes my chest tight anyway.
Two years, and he still looks at me like I'm something precious.
"Go shower," I tell him. "I'll wrangle the twins."
"You sure? I can?—"
"Grant." I lean up to kiss him, quick and certain. "I've got this. Go."
He goes, but not before stealing another kiss, this one deeper. Clara makes a sound of disgust between us.
"Yucky," she declares.
"Very yucky," Grant agrees solemnly. But his eyes are dancing when they meet mine. "Twenty minutes. Then I'm all yours for twin duty."
I watch him disappear down the hallway, and feel that familiar surge of gratitude and love and still, after everything, a little bit of wonder.
This is my life. Our life.
The one I was so terrified to build because I thought it meant sacrificing everything I'd worked for.
James squirms in my arms, wanting down. I set him on the floor, and he immediately toddles over to the blocks, beginning the serious work of reconstruction.
I sink onto the sofa, my body grateful for the reprieve. The morning has been a whirlwind—a video conference with our production team in France, a call with our new hire for customer service, three emails from investors wanting updates on our expansion plans, and somewhere in there, I managed to change two diapers, prevent one toddler meltdown, and eat half an apple.
My phone buzzes. A text from Poppy.
Poppy:SAW THE PRESS RELEASE. BERGDORF'S?!?! EM. HOLY SHIT.
I smile, typing back one-handed while keeping an eye on James.
Me:I know! Still processing.
Poppy:Celebratory drinks? Please say yes. I need to hear everything.
Me:Tomorrow? My dad is visiting today.
Poppy:Tell him I said hi. And Em? I'm so proud of you.
The words make my eyes sting. Poppy's been with me through everything—the pregnancy test that changed my life, the breakup that almost destroyed me, the reconciliation that saved me. She's watched me build Essence from a dream scribbled in notebooks to a company with real offices, real employees, and now, distribution in one of the world's most prestigious retailers.
Me:Love you. Couldn't have done this without you.
Poppy:Damn right you couldn't. I'm an excellent social media manager. See you tomorrow. xx
