“Put it on the business,” Jasper says easily. “I’m starving already, but I have to keep my appetite. Miranda’s cooking.”
Theo arches a brow. “Lasagne?”
“She’s perfecting it,” Jasper says. “In short, I’ve been banned from the kitchen and reassigned to watching football with SJ.”
I glance at him. “The kid supports Arsenal.”
“Yes,” Jasper says. “Which means dinner comes with tactical debates and emotional resilience training.”
Theo grins. “He still talks football with you, though.”
“That’s because I take him seriously,” Jasper says. “I don’t laugh when he says things like ‘this is our year’.”
I snort. “I respect the optimism. I just prefer sports where people admit it’s going to hurt.”
Theo looks at me. “Rugby does feel more honest.”
“Exactly,” I say. “No illusions. Just mud and disappointment.”
Theo shakes his head, amused. “And Miranda puts up with your and SJ’s football discussions over dinner?”
Jasper’s expression softens, just a touch. “She does. Claims it builds character.”
“For who?” Theo asks.
“All of us,” Jasper says, without hesitation.
Theo wipes his hands on a cloth and turns back to the machine, the conversation drifting the way it always does once it’s done something useful. Jasper checks his phone, frowns at a message, then relaxes again, like whatever it was can wait until later.
It probably can. That’s his life now. Things slot in. They wait for him. They don’t demand centre stage.
I finish my Melange more slowly than I need to, partly because it’s good and partly because I don’t feel any urgency to be anywhere else. That’s the part I still haven’t got used to. No calendars breathing down my neck. No flights to catch. No clients emailing at midnight because they’ve changed their mind about a shade of beige.
Theo glances over at me while tamping coffee. “You alright, though?”
It’s not a loaded question. It’s not even suspicious. It’s just there, offered and retractable at the same time.
“Yeah,” I say. “Just… recalibrating.”
He nods like that makes perfect sense because, for him, it does. He’s been recalibrating since he had a burn out.
Jasper slides off his stool and stretches. “I’ve got to head off. Miranda’s got a parent thing at school and I promised I’d walk the small Arsenal fan home before he decides I’m ruining his life.” He nods a goodbye and heads out with the happy little smile he’s had on his face ever since Miranda came back to him.
Theo tops up the grinder, then glances towards the door Jasper’s just gone through. “He’s good with SJ.”
“He is,” I say. “But he’s always been good with Lucy.”
Theo huffs a quiet laugh. “True, and whoever can manage my little Ladybug can handle any child.” He lines up cups again, movements automatic now. “Lucy’s nearly six.”
I blink. “Already?”
“Couple of weeks,” he says. “She’s counting down like it’s Christmas. Keeps asking what age sixdoes.”
“And what’s her verdict?”
“That she’ll be allowed to stay up late and make her own decisions,” he says dryly. “So we’re negotiating expectations early.”
I grin. “Wise.”
